


The Honeymoon Phase

by BerylSpring



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Cup and a Half of Smut, Anal, Anger, Angry Sex, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Bar Room Brawl, Bondage, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Dean, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean taking care of you, Dean/You Flirting, Domestic Dean Winchester, Drinking, Drunk Reader, Dubious Consent, Embarrassed Reader, F/M, Falling In Love, First Aid, Flirting, Gentleman Dean, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Just a Pinch of Fluff, Masturbation Interruptus, Men of Letters Bunker, Motel room, OFC - Freeform, Oral Sex, Pool & Billiards, Reader-Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Sex, Sexting, Shapeshifter, Shower Sex, WIP, more to come soon, on the road, shy reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylSpring/pseuds/BerylSpring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that initial period of a new relationship when you can’t keep your hands off each other?  Imagine what that would be like with Dean Winchester.  You lucky girl!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short chapter fic that I will hopefully finish soon. I have quite a few unfinished stories that I'm working on at the moment, and I know I should probably just finish them one at a time, but I can't help it...I get ideas! Anyway, if any of you are interested, I am almost finished with the next chapter of "Sweet Child 'O Mine" and should have that up soon. My Lungs Series is on the back burner for a bit, but I promise it will be finished at some point. Thanks for reading, enjoy this new distraction until next time! Love y'all!

Tonight was the night!  Ever since you started hunting with the Winchesters, you had been harboring the biggest crush on Dean.  You weren’t the only woman to find the man irresistible.  Whenever you would join them for a drink at the local dive after spilling the blood of a demon or werewolf, or any one of the many creatures that kept hunters like yourself in business, you would watch as the ladies buzzed around him like bees to honey.  You would sit back, sipping your beer or your whiskey, depending on how bad the hunt had been, and watch as he worked his charms on the lucky girl he chose as his own for the evening.  Tonight it was going to be you. 

The banshee you snuffed earlier had been a cake walk, and it was still early.  There weren’t many patrons at the bar yet, so Dean hadn’t zeroed in on anyone in particular and you were feeling the heat as you watched him bend over the pool table to take his shot.  Smiling out of the corner of your mouth, you took another sip of your beer and walked to the opposite side of the table, placing the bottle down on the edge and leaning in slightly, your hands spread along the rim, giving him an eyeful of your cleavage.  “Don’t miss,” you challenged, and watched as his eyes played along the line of your low-cut tank top.

He smirked and took his shot, sinking two solids into the corner pocket near your right hand.  “Your trying to play dirty, but it’s not gonna work.”  Dean walked around to your side of the table and sidled up next to you to take his next shot.  “Excuse me, you’re in my way,” he said, nudging you over with his hip.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the table, backing against the wall to give yourself an unencumbered view of his beautiful ass again.  His flirting with you was nothing new, in fact it had become routine, but it never went any further than that.  You were tired of sitting on the sidelines; tonight was the night you were going to confess your attraction to him.  You were pretty sure he was attracted to you too, but if you were wrong, at least you would know and stop wasting your time fantasizing about what it would be like to go to bed with him.  Of course that wasn’t really all you fantasized about.  The idea of being with Dean Winchester on the regular, made your heart skip a beat or two.  Hunters weren’t known for getting involved for the long term, but secretly you all wanted it; to find someone you could make it work with.  That was a topic of discussion for another day, however.  From what you had observed, the way to a hunter’s heart started with finding a way into his bed, and in Dean’s case maybe following up with a bacon cheeseburger and some homemade apple pie.  The thought of how his eyes lit up around pie made you giggle a little, and you didn’t notice that he finished his shot and was now leaning up against the wall next to you.

“What are you laughing at sweetheart?” his husky voice sounded in your ear.

For a moment you just stared at him, his green eyes crinkled up with his grin, and you had to shake yourself out of your reverie and remember your goal.  You weren’t going to accomplish your task if you acted like a blithering idiot. Clearing your throat, you raised your eyebrows at him and started to slink back over to the table, swaying your hips ever so slightly to get his attention.  The cue ball had bounced off the far rail on Dean’s last shot and was almost in the same position it had been in before, which meant it was Dean’s turn to get an eyeful of booty.  Stretching your right leg back behind you, you bent over to line up your shot, and as you were pulling back on your cue you felt Dean’s warm body press up against yours like a second layer.  His face was inches away from yours and his fingers wrapped around your grip on the cue. 

“You want to aim a little more to the left,” he breathed in your ear as he adjusted your shot.  His hand guided yours back and with his help you slammed the end into the ball, spinning it into a trick shot and sinking a stripe that was further away than your original target.

You straightened up and turned towards him, his face beaming with a satisfied “I told you so”. Squinting your eyes at him only made him smile wider, and you felt your knees go weak.  It was now or never.  If you waited any longer to make your move, you would probably chicken out.  Using your pool cue as a brace you pushed up on your toes and leaned into him, letting your free hand roam up his chest and over his shoulder to the back of his neck.  As you brought your lips closer to his you noticed a look of surprise dance across his face, but when you made contact he immediately kissed you back.  It was only a couple of seconds, a sweet, chaste kind of kiss, but it felt like time had stopped around you.  Breaking away, you looked up into his eyes and he stared back down at yours.  The clattering of glasses and din of the chattering crowd seemed to fade into the background, and for a moment it was only you and him in time and space.

The moment was shattered when a tipsy coed fell off her too high heels and smacked into Dean’s back, pushing him up against you and causing you to knock your beer off the edge of the pool table to shatter on the concrete floor.  Beer splashed at your ankles and you watched as the drunk girl went about apologizing by rubbing her hands all over your man.  She was practically giving him a hand job by the time he straightened her up and handed her back over to her equally flirtatious friend.  What you wouldn’t give for a falling anvil right about now.  By the time the girls were on their way, Sam had come back from the bar with a tray full of shots for the three of you, which was a good thing, because you needed the hard liquor right about now.

“Sammy, what’s this?” Dean inquired in amazement, “Since when do you have fun at a bar?”

Sam sniggered and handed his brother jigger of whiskey, “And for the lady, her signature Buttery Nipple.”

Your shot of choice earned you a look from Dean, which then earned him a hard punch to the arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” he feigned injury.

“Don’t be jealous of my Buttery Nipple,” you teased, “besides, I seem to recall Sam telling me a story about your love affair with Purple Nurples?” 

That wiped the smirk off his face, but made both you and Sam grin like fools.

Dean turned back to his brother, “Seriously, what’s up with you buying us shots?”

“It’s early, we had a clean hunt for a change,” Sam responded, “I figured we might as well celebrate the successes.”

“Here, here,” Dean responded, raising his glass.

“Not gonna argue with that,” you said meeting his and Sam’s with a clink.

All three of you dropped your heads back and let the liquor swim down your throats.  You licked the sugary residue off your lips absentmindedly, and felt a jolt of excitement when you noticed Dean watching you.  He was thinking about your lips again, and that was a good thing.  You could definitely work off this momentum.  “Hit me with another one,” you tilted your head at Sam and waited for him to hand you the shot.  This time it was a Fireball and it burned going down, making you pucker your lips and blow out with a whistle. 

Dean took his own and winced at the taste, “Ugh, what’s with the girly shots?  Where’s the tequila?”

“It’s a little early for tequila, Dean,” you said, “we’ll all be naked before midnight if we start in on those.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” he contested, which made the blush creep into your cheeks.

“Alright, alright, let’s all keep our clothes on please,” Sam said, downing the last Fireball on the tray.

Dean looked straight at you and said, “I’m not making any promises.”

 

*****

 

Damn Dean and his tequila shots!  It was two in the morning before you all got back to the motel, and you were pretty well sauced.  Sam stumbled into their room and passed out face down on his bed, while Dean half supported, half carried you through the door to your adjoining room.  Being the professional alcoholic he was, the tequila seemed to only give him a slight buzz. 

“C’mon boozey, let’s get you to bed,” he rasped as he settled you down on the foot of the mattress before turning down the comforter and sheets. 

You lay there limply, the effects of the alcohol making your muscles feel all goosey loosey, and waited for him to come back to you.  “Help me get my boots off,” you asked dreamily.  He obliged, unlacing each one and pulling them off before placing them on the floor.  “My socks too!” you commanded in the least commanding voice possible.  He chuckled and pulled them off too, shaking his head as you wiggled your toes in appreciation.

Dean stood and reached his hands under your shoulders to sit you upright.  “Alright, scoot back and get under the covers,” he instructed, trying to help you with the task.

You shook your head and slurred, “My clothes are still on.  Help me take them off.”

Dean paused for a moment, like he was thinking about it, but then walked around the side of the bed and dragged you back to towards the pillow.  “You can sleep in your clothes tonight sweetheart.  It won’t kill you.”

“But I thought you wanted to get me naked?” you grinned as you listlessly pawed at his jacket.

“Not tonight, honey,” he sighed, “you’re drunk, you need to sleep it off.”

Your eyes closed unwillingly, and you curled up on your side facing him.  “Dean?”

“What kiddo?”

“Can you just lay with me please?” you pathetically begged, although you had no control over your tone at the moment.

It was so quiet at first that you thought he left, but your eyelids were too heavy with alcohol- induced sleepiness to verify it.  Then the sound of his boots hitting the floor and the creak of the mattress springs as he climbed in next to you answered your question.  The last thing you felt before dozing off were his soft lips on your forehead and his arm winding around your waist.

 

*****

Blinking yourself awake, you inhaled deeply and shifted further into the mattress.  You must have turned over at some point during the night because you could feel Dean pressed up against your back now, his face buried into your hair, his breath falling heavy on the back of your neck.  Besides the dull ache of the beginnings of a hangover, the effects of the shots had worn off now.  It was still dark outside, but you couldn’t see the face of the digital clock from your position so you weren’t sure how early in the morning it was.  Lying there in the dark, you listened to the steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing.  His arm was draped loosely around your torso, and the heat from his body was warm and inviting.  This was something you had longed to feel for what seemed like forever, but the sensation was slightly dampened by your memory of the night before.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.  You were going to tell him how you felt about him last night.  You were supposed to have an amazing, sexy time after you got back from the bar; reveling in the fact that you got a separate room so you and Dean could enjoy a Sam-free fling.  Instead, you lost your senses and got smashed off your ass on cheap tequila.  He had to take care of your drunk ass, like you were some lightweight, college girl who couldn’t hold her liquor.  You were just as bad as those girls who were fawning over him last night.  God, he was never going to take you seriously after this!  To add to your horror, you vaguely remember asking him to undress you!  A rush of blood surged through you, the embarrassment tingling in your veins.

Unsuccessfully trying to hold back a shudder, the movement made Dean stir, and you tried to still yourself as to not wake him.  But you felt his arm tighten around you and his husky voice sounded softly in your ear.

“You okay?” he asked, “You’re not feeling sick are you?”

“No, I feel alright,” you responded turning in his grasp to face him, “I’m sorry about last night.  I didn’t mean to get that sloppy.”

He chuckled, his eyes still heavy with sleep, “S’alright, it was kinda cute.”

Somehow that made you feel even worse.  Cute?  The night started with sexy flirtation and ended up being kiddy cute!

“Well, I’m better now,” you said with a hint of bitterness tainting your voice, “again, I’m sorry.”

Dean opened his eyes and stared at you in the dark.  The room had gotten a bit lighter than when you first awoke, so the sun must have been creeping up.  There was just enough light to see each other’s features up close.

“So, you’re sober now?” he asked.

You closed your eyes in shame and sighed deeply before responding, “Yes, I’m sober now.”

“Good,” Dean said before pressing his lips to yours firmly.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but when you felt his hand snake-up into your hair you let your eyes close and moved your lips in sync with his.  His tongue slithered out and brushed over your bottom lip, making yours part so he could enter your mouth.  The faint taste of whiskey and tequila still lingered on his breath, but that didn’t stop you from deepening the kiss, tangling your tongue with his forcefully.  Dean’s hand moved down your back and over your backside, squeezing your ass firmly and eliciting a soft moan from within you.  He hummed back and pulled your body even closer to his, pressing your pelvis to his, the strain of his erection pushing at you from behind the fabric of his jeans.  Apparently he was a gentleman on all counts last night, refusing to undress you in your drunken state, but also keeping his clothes on for good measure.  All you wanted right now was for him to take them off.

He must have been thinking along the same lines, because the next thing you felt was his hand sliding up under your tank top, the rough skin on his fingers scratching lightly at your bare skin.  Without breaking the kiss, he turned you onto your back and resumed smoothing his hand up to your breasts, fingering the lace edge of the bra you were still wearing.  You whimpered a little as his mouth left yours, and you felt him smile against your skin as he kissed down your neck and nibbled at your ear.  Breathing heavy, you watched as Dean sat up and pulled his tee-shirt off, revealing his perfectly chiseled chest and abs, throwing it over the edge of the bed and onto the floor.  You leaned up on your elbows as he quickly made work of your own, tossing it aside with his and smiling appreciatively down at your exposed frame.  Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans slowly before pulling them down your legs and off the ends of your feet.  Tugging gently, Dean pulled you down the length of the bed and got on his knees on the floor, so that your knees were hooked over his shoulders and his face was just inches away from your heat.

Your breathing quickened further in anticipation, and he playfully nosed at your panties licking a strip up the fabric and dampening the cloth.  His strong hands massaged into your thighs as he left little kisses up and down your legs, and his fingers traveled up towards your center trailing lightly over your covered sex. 

“Do you like it when I tease you sweetheart?” he asked with that deep, sexy-as-hell voice of his.

“No!” you responded, squirming underneath him.

He laughed at that, and made short work of removing your panties in apology.  “Let me make it up to you.”  With that, his tongue flicked across your clit, causing you to buck up into him, and he began devouring your pussy like it was the best damn pie he’d ever eaten.  His mouth licked and sucked at your folds, dipping into your core and then lapping up the juice as you got wetter and wetter underneath him.  “You taste amazing baby girl,” he cooed, before continuing on with his work.  The motion of his tongue against your most sensitive skin was building that tension in your gut and it wasn’t long before it exploded over you in waves, making you cry out in pleasure.  Dean worked your clit until you came down from your high, but he wasn’t finished with you yet, slipping two of his fingers into your opening and pumping them slowly as the moaning started emanating from your lips.  His touch remained gentle, but he expertly found the right angle to send you over the edge once more.  You came again, faster than you thought would be possible, and he again cleaned you up with his tongue. 

Giving you a moment to regain your composure, Dean stood up and undid his jeans, letting them drop to the ground before yanking his boxer-briefs down too.  There he was, standing in front of you like a Greek God, naked and ready to give you what you had only dreamed of before.  You watched as he unwrapped a foil package he fished from his jeans pocket and rolled the latex onto his erection.  “Come up here,” you managed to breath out, and he wasted no time climbing over you on the bed.  Eager to please him the way he pleased you, you sat up and pushed him onto his back before he could get his purchase over you, and straddled his stomach.  The tip of his cock was just barely grazing your ass as you bent down and kissed him hard on the mouth, tasting yourself on his lips.  With eyes locked, you slid back down onto him slowly, his hands gripping your hips and easing the movement. 

Dean closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath at the feeling, and you began to move on him, causing his lips to part slightly with his exhale.  His fingers spread wide and shifted to your ass, grabbing each cheek with a tender squeeze and raising you up and down on his length.  With your hands planted on either side of the pillow, your breasts, supported by the bra that was still pushing them together, bounced just inches from his face.  “Take that off,” he breathed, and watched as you sat upright, freeing your hands to unclasp the eyehooks and slip the satiny fabric down your arms and onto the bed beside you.  Your chest now exposed to him, he took full advantage, pulling you down into him and taking your left nipple between his teeth.  He rolled his tongue around the nub, and when he pulled his mouth away to suck on the other, the cool air hit the wetness he left there, causing it to harden and tighten.

You continued to roll your hips into him as he worked his mouth on your breasts, and moaned at the feeling of his thick cock massaging your walls, the tip just brushing over your g-spot enough to make you mewl softly in his ear, your hair falling across his face and neck with the riding motion, tickling his skin.  His mouth found yours again and you couldn’t help but moan into his kiss as he placed his palm flat and pressed down on your lower back, shifting the angle and holding you in place as he thrusted up into you.  He found your g-spot now, and it was all you could do to hold on and let him have his way with you.  With every plunge you let out a high pitched keen, which only egged him on further, and he increased his pace making you cry out in pleasure as he pushed deeper and deeper into your core.

The sounds you were making for him made his adrenaline surge, so he grabbed onto you and rolled you onto your back, never breaking contact.  Dean eased your legs up and over his shoulders, wrapping his hands around the backs of your knees and leaning into you, opening you further as he continued to buck into you, slowing down and taking his time to make sure you could feel the friction of his entire shaft.  When he bottomed out, his balls landing gently against your ass, both of you let out a guttural moan and he shifted your legs down around his waist so he could get as close to you as possible.  Your bellies pressed together as he continued his slow motion giving him the chance to brush the hair from your face and kiss you tenderly again.  You caught your breath and looked up at him, surprised by the look of astonishment on his face.  He looked like a teenager in awe of his first sexual experience.  You knew for a fact that this wasn’t his first rodeo, but the way he stared at you made realize that this was something special to him.  Maybe _you_ were something special to him.

“Dean?” you began, but didn’t know what it was you wanted to say.

He smiled down at you, “Y/N?”

“Faster,” you requested, not coming up with anything better.

He obliged by pushing himself up, getting more leverage, and speeding up his thrusts.  The way his cock filled you, chaffing against your walls, hitting your pleasure zone over and over, faster and faster, made the fire rise up in your gut and when he started to groan with each drive into you, the fire began to rage.  With a final push against your center you let his name scream from your lips as he plunged deep and let out his own grunting admission of an earth-shaking orgasm.  You could feel him still twitching inside you as the fire in your belly dwindled down to embers, until he finally relaxed against you, his breathing heavy in your ear.  Bringing your hands up around his back, you traced the lines of his now slack muscles with your fingertips, soothing away any lingering tension.  His skin was moist with the sweat of his exertion, and his body was warm on top of yours.  Eventually his breathing slowed, and he pulled out of you slowly and rolled onto his back, removing the condom and tying it off before tossing it aside.  “What are you doing all the way over there?” he teased as he snaked his arm underneath the back of your neck and tugged you closer to him.

You laid your head on his shoulder, placed your hand over his heart, and listened to his breathing regulate as his chest rose and fell beneath you.  The two of you stayed silent for a long while, just enjoying each other’s company, and then you felt his lips on the top of your head;  a simple gesture of his affection.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, rubbing his hand up and down your bare arm.

You smiled, “How amazing that was.”

“I have to agree there,” he said as he smoothed your hair away from your forehead and gave you another sweet kiss.

Eventually the sun came up, and the sound of Sam bumping around next door told you it was time to get up and get on with your day, which unfortunately would include saying goodbye to Dean until the next time they called you in on a hunt or vice versa.  You kissed him one last time and then got up to shower and get dressed, and when you emerged from the bathroom, Dean had already gone back to his room to pack up.  When everyone was done, you met outside for your goodbyes.  Sam, gave you a hug and told you to keep in touch before heading off to turn in all your room keys, leaving you alone with his brother for a moment. 

Dean busied himself with pulling weapons out of his duffle bag and placing them back in the cache in his trunk while you stood there bewildered, not knowing what to say.  You were a grown woman for God’s sake, but you were feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush!  Finally, Dean slammed the trunk closed and walked over to you.  You both stared at each other awkwardly, until Sam finally returned and Dean  said, “See ya around.”

“See ya,” you said lamely in return, and the two of you hesitated for just a moment before Dean walked to the other side of the Impala, climbed in and began pulling out of the motel parking lot.

Sam waved goodbye as they sped off, leaving you to get in your own car and head for home.


	2. Sexting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Removed the image version of this chapter since I couldn't get it working. Oh well! Here's the all text version.

Your phone rang, startling you awake.  Rolling over in the dark to reach for your phone on the old wooden nightstand, you glanced quickly at the time (3:56 a.m.) before registering who the caller was that was interrupting your much needed sleep.  Dean Winchester’s name flashed across the illuminated screen, and you toyed with the idea of not answering for a moment.  You hadn’t heard from him since the night you two slept together, and you were certain you had been just another notch on his bedpost.  It wasn’t like you were mad at him, you didn’t specifically discuss what that night was about, but you had been hoping that it was the start of something more between the two of you.  You should have known he would never see you like that.  Most hunters tried not to get involved with anyone, and Dean Winchester had a reputation as a ladies man.  Still, the fact that you hadn’t heard a word from him had stung a little.  You considered him one of your good friends if not more, and you thought he felt the same at least.  Clearly you were wrong.

The ringtone sounded again, and you sighed heavily before hitting the answer button.  “Hello,” you said, your voice sounding a little like gravel being crushed by tires. 

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Dean,” he yelled, trying to be heard over the loud music that was playing in the background of whatever bar he was in.

“I know who it is,” you replied, “Why are you waking my ass up at four in the morning?”“Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping,” he apologized, “I was just thinking about you.”

He was thinking about you?  Well, that’s something.  You played it cool, “That’s nice Dean, but please tell me this was an important phone call and not just a ‘hey, how are ya?.  I just got back from hunting a particularly nasty wraith and I need my beauty rest.”

The line seemed to go dead for a minute, and you thought for a second that he had hung up on you, but then you heard him breathing again, “Sorry, I had to get out of that bar.  It was so loud in there.  Did you say you were hunting a wraith?”

“No, I said I just got back from hunting a wraith, and I’m exhausted.  Did you need something?”

He paused for a minute, “No, I’m…I just…I’ll let you get back to sleep.  I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Maybe you were crazy, but by the tone of his voice it seemed like he was a little hurt.  “Dean?  Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his bravado made a comeback, “Just thought I’d check in.  I’ll talk to later.”

 “Okay, goodni…” you began, but he had already hung up.

Pausing for a moment, you stared at the screen on your phone and took a deep breath.  You hoped that you weren’t too cranky with him, you didn’t want to put him off, but at the same time you were so groggy that the grouchiness was like second nature.  You placed the phone back down, rolled onto your back and stared up at your reflection in the mirrored motel room ceiling.  At least he called.  That was something, right?  Giving into your need for sleep, you rolled over onto your side and decided you’d call him back tomorrow, at a decent hour.

 

*****

After pulling over for gas, you finally reached for your phone to give Dean a call back.  The cross-country road trip you had to take on your way home was taking its toll on you and hearing his voice would be welcome right about now.  You did hear his voice, but unfortunately it was his outgoing message.  Hanging up without leaving a message, you decided just to try again later, and got back into the car to get the next leg of your travels out of the way.  Next time you’re working a case on the other side of the country you’re buying a plane ticket!

You drove another eight hours and stopped for the night in Saratoga, Wyoming at a motel called The Silver Moon.  It was twenty minutes off the highway, but there weren’t many other options in that neck of the woods.  After you checked in, you decided to take a nice hot shower.  Your bones ached and your muscles were sore from sitting in the car for so long and you needed a release.  The water felt great and you had to admit, just being able to wash away the staleness of the car made you feel a hundred percent better.  You toweled off and pulled your damp hair up into a loose bun at the top of your head, pulled on a pair of comfy panties, and wrangled your softest tee-shirt over your head so you could just relax the rest of the night.  Maybe you could find an old black-and-white movie to watch on the 1980’s television that sat on the dresser across from the bed.

Propping yourself up against the headboard with the pillows shoved behind you for something resembling comfort, you picked up the remote and began flipping through channels.  It wasn’t long before you settled on some reruns of _The Andy Griffith Show_.  Halfway through the first episode, your stomach roared like a jungle cat, so you dialed a local pizza joint for delivery and while you were waiting for your food to arrive your phone vibrated next to you.  It was a text from Dean.

 

> Dean:  Evrything ok?  I got ur missed call.

 

You smiled to yourself and texted him back.

 

> You:  Yeah.  Just wanted to make sure u were ok.  You called so late last night.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Sry.  It was only 2am where I was.  Where r u?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Right now I’m in WY.  Last night WA.  The drive back to TN is a bitch!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  U by yourself?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Yep.  Too bad 2 cause the motel last night had a mirrored ceiling!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Classy!  Too bad I wasn’t there ;-)

 

Your breath caught on that last one.  He was flirting with you again, by text no less.  Was this a good sign?

 

> Dean:  What r u doing now?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Watching TV, waiting on a pizza
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  A real pizza? Or are you watching porn again?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  WHAT!  When have u ever seen me watch porn?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  It’s ok honey, we all have our guilty pleasures.
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I’m not watching porn u perv!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  LOL
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Hey u gonna b driving thru KS on your way home?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Prbly, y?

 

> Dean:  U should swing by

So he wanted to see you?  Definitely a good sign!  As excited as you were by the invite, it was best to be casual about it.

 

> You:  Maybe…I’ll think about it.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Pizza there yet?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  It’s gonna take a little longer than a few minutes Dean
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  How much time do we have?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  For what?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  For u 2 tell me what ur wearing
> 
>  
> 
> You:  DEAN!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  What?  It’s a simple question
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Right…u have no other agenda?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  I don’t know what u mean sweetheart
> 
>  
> 
> You:  r u srsly sexting me right now?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  do u want me 2?

 

Your heart began to race at the thought and you didn’t know quite how to respond. 

 

> Dean:  did I scare you off?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  No.  Just …
> 
>  
> 
> Dean: u gonna finish that thought?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I didn’t know you were into that
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Well I can’t have u here, so next best thing…

 

You really didn’t know what to think about this.  If you were being honest, you weren’t all that sure you knew how to do this.  You had phone sex once, and it was awkward for you.  You weren’t so good at the dirty talk in general, so texting him little “ooohs and ahhhs” seemed downright terrifying.  Dean was so sure of himself that it could be intimidating, and the last thing you wanted to do was make a fool of yourself.  It was flattering though, that he wanted to.

 

> You:  I don’t know Dean, it seems a little weird
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  No pressure babe.  Just thought it might be fun
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  I can’t stop thinking about the last time
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  guess I can wait until I see you again
> 
>  
> 
> You:  sry I’m being so lame.  I just think I’d disappoint you.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Not possible!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  I’ll walk u through it?

 

You began chewing on your bottom lip.  You really wanted to make Dean happy, and truth be told you wanted him to make you “happy” too.  If anyone could make this work for you, it would be him.  What were you so worried about?  It couldn’t be that hard.  It was just words, right?  With a nervous groan you texted him back.

 

> You:  Okay, what the hell!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean: :)
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  So…what r u wearing?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  LOL…my Living on a Prayer Tour Shirt and black panties
> 
>  
> 
> You:  real sexy right? 
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  oh kitten, you would be sexy wearing a burlap sack
> 
>  
> 
> You:  uh huh, right…what r u wearing?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Jeans, t-shirt, flannel
> 
>  
> 
> You:  That is way too much clothes!
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  LOL, u want me to take them off?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  yes but slowly
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  see ur getting the hang of it already
> 
>  
> 
> You:  well I feel stupid
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  u sound sexy
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  why don’t you take that t-shirt off
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Okay, but u have to shed some things too.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean: Baby I’m already there, lying on the bed in my boxers
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Damn Dean that’s hot
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  u like that?  Does it make u wet thinking about me?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  u always make me wet

 

You couldn’t believe you just sent that!  It was one thing flirting with him at a bar, but you had never gotten explicit with him like this.  Even though you had been with him physically, this was a whole new experience for you.  Deciding to just throw caution to the wind, you mentally prepared yourself to let loose and get a little raunchy with him tonight.

 

> Dean:  That’s my girl.  Are those beautiful tits exposed?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Yes
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  I wanna suck those nipples of yours
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  touch them for me baby, get em nice and hard
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  tell me what u r doing sweetheart
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I’m rolling my nipples between my thumb and forefinger
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Nice!  How does that feel?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  It would feel better if it was your mouth on them
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Mmmm god baby girl, that’s a great idea
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  u keep talking like that and I’m gonna drive to WY tonight
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I wouldn’t stop u
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  Man the thought of u lying there, touching yourself…
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  it’s making me hard
> 
>  
> 
> You:  What can I do 2 help u with that?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  rub your fingers over your panties and tell me how wet you are
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I’m really wet for you Dean
> 
>  
> 
> You:  r u stroking your cock for me?
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  fuck honey, u know I am
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  I want u to do what I say, okay?

 

Damn this was so incredibly hot!  You closed your eyes to picture him lying there, pleasuring himself over your words.  Right now you would do anything to please him, anything he told you to do.

 

> You:  Anything u want
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  good girl
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  put two fingers in your mouth and get them nice and juicy for me
> 
>  
> 
> You:  Mmmm done
> 
>  
> 
> Dean: now slide them into your panties and lube up that clit of urs
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  how does that feel sweetheart?
> 
>  
> 
> You:  feels so good

 

Suddenly your bliss was interrupted by a harsh knocking on the door.  _Shit!  I forgot about the pizza_ , you thought to yourself. 

 

> You:  Dean, the delivery guy is here
> 
>  
> 
> Dean:  oh honey don’t leave me hanging now
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I can’t just let him stay out there Dean!
> 
>  
> 
> You:  I’ll be right back, promise!

 

Scrambling to put on your shirt and the jeans you had draped over the chair earlier, you dug through your bag to find your wallet and pulled out twenty-five dollars before opening the door.  You handed the driver the cash, telling him to keep the change and shut the door again before tossing the pizza box onto the table.  You reached for your phone to text Dean that you were back, and began getting undressed again, but it seemed the moment was over.  He told you to eat and he’d catch up with you later.  Trying to protest you told him that you still wanted to do this, but he said that he would rather just finish it the next time he saw you.  He was going to call you tomorrow to give you directions to the bunker so you could come by on your way home.

You were disappointed, and hoped that he wasn’t mad at you for interrupting, but you both said your goodbyes and you went about satiating yourself in a different way.  Your stomach was very appreciative.


	3. Shower Sex is Complicated...but Oh So Fun!

You had been on the road since 9:00 a.m. and the sun was now hugging the horizon directly behind you.  The glare in the rearview kept obscuring your vision as you sped down U.S. 40 towards Lebanon, Kansas.  Since you turned off of the interstate about forty minutes ago, you had been driving through a whole lot of nothing; just field after field with an occasional old timey gas station popping up now and then.  The Winchesters lived way off the grid if this was any indication.  You wondered why they would choose to stay someplace so remote.  By the time you rolled into town, your body ached from twisting around to avoid the sun from blinding you and just being stuck in the car for eight hours straight. 

Following your GPS through town to find “the bunker”, as Dean had called it, your eyes went wide when you saw the imposing looking building up the hill in front of you.  It was massive!  That’s where they lived?  You wound around the long uphill drive until you reached the literal end of the roadway.  There was a set of concrete median barriers marking the end of the line, on the opposite side of which was a steep drop.  Putting your car in park, you stepped out and stretched upright, letting a long, musical yawn escape.  You texted Dean to let him know you were outside and popped the trunk to grab your canvas weekender bag.  By the time you shut the trunk you could hear the screeching of the big iron door opening from the side of the hill.  Dean jogged up the set of crumbling concrete stairs and walked over to you, giving you a friendly hug.

“Let me get that,” he said, grabbing for your bag.

You pulled away, “I can carry my own bag Dean, but thanks for being a gentleman.”

He smirked at you, “You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, Y/N.  You know that?”

“Move it soldier,” you teased as you swung your bag into his butt to get him going.

The two of you laughed as you followed him into the vast space that was the Men of Letters Bunker.  He told you some of the history of the place as you followed him down the maze of corridors, mouth agape at the size of the place.  On the way, he pointed out a few rooms like the laboratory, the mess hall, and the ginormous shower room that served as a bathroom for just two people.  The amount of numbered doors you passed was nothing short of astonishing, when he finally stopped outside room 12 and opened the door. 

“You can put your stuff in here,” Dean said, “my room is right next door.”

You smiled at him and stepped into the dimly lit space, noticing how Spartan it was in appearance.  The bed was like a relic from the 1940’s, and beside the plain white sheets and brown nubby blanket, there were no soft surfaces in the room whatsoever.  Taking a moment to place your bag down on the foot of the bed, you had the briefest moment of defeat.  You had hoped that you’d be staying with Dean, but you guessed it was nice to have your own space.  It wasn’t like you were going to be staying long, but a little privacy would be nice…maybe.  Dean was looking at the floor and shuffling his feet when you turned back around to look at him.  You had never seen him look so vulnerable before.  It was sorta cute to see him drop the macho façade.

Dean straightened up when you walked over to him; macho façade resumed.  “Do you want a few minutes to settle in,” he asked politely.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a shower.  My back is killing me from sitting in one position all day.  Would it be alright if I took a few minutes to get cleaned up?”

A playful smile crossed his face and he raised one eyebrow at you, “Right to the naked part I see.”

You smacked his arm playfully in response, and he grinned unabashedly. 

“Go ahead, do you remember where the shower room is?”

The face you made told him that you didn’t, so he told you to grab whatever you needed and walked you back through the labyrinth to the door.  You thanked him and kissed his cheek, lingering for a moment to inhale his woodsy, leather and whiskey scent.  Then his hands were on you, pulling your change of clothes and bottles of shampoo and body wash away from you and pushing you through the swinging double doors with his kiss.  Your stuff got deposited on a long wooden bench and then he made short work of stripping your clothes off, while you helped him out of his.  By the time you were both naked, he had backed you up into a shower stall and was fondling your breasts with his strong hands.  Your lips were crushing into his violently, and you twisted your hands into his short brown hair, tugging gently.  Dean groaned into your mouth, and he reached behind you to turn the shower on.

You screeched as the stream of ice cold water hit your back, temporarily punctuating your heated activities.  The two of you laughed as he worked on getting the temperature up to a more comfortable level, and then you were once again warm in his muscular, and now wet, arms.  As the water fell around you, slicking up your skin, his hands roamed free touching every nook and cranny of your body.  Your head fell back as he simultaneously explored in between your legs with his hand and down your neck and shoulder with his lips.  The breath that escaped your mouth formed a little vapor as it hit the steam created by the hot shower.  Water dripped down his nose and bounced off your breasts as he kissed around your collarbone, and you brought your hands down his slippery back to grab onto his firm ass.  Following your example, Dean smoothed one hand around your backside and squeezed tightly, pushing your pelvis further into his other hand and creating jaw-dropping pressure on your clitoris, making you moan loudly in his ear.

“Fuck Y/N, I love the sounds you make for me,” Dean exhaled throatily.

His middle finger dipped slowly into you, testing to see if he could easily enter you without hurting you.  Water always made things difficult in that regard, and he wanted to make sure your experience was pure pleasure, not pain.  When he was able to pulse his finger in and out easily, he inserted a second finger, spreading you wider and massaging your walls to prepare for his eventual entry.

“God, Dean, I need you,” you pleaded, letting your hand wrap around his erection and tugging gingerly, making him groan your name wantonly.

Stopping his ministrations he brought his hand around to join his other on your ass and lifted you up to wrap your legs around him.  Carefully, he turned and shambled forward, pining your back up against the cool tile surround.  Then he lifted you just enough for the tip of his cock to find purchase underneath your entrance, and lowered you slowly onto his length.  You held on tightly to his shoulders and helped him move you up and down onto him.  His face screwed up in satisfaction at the friction from your tight pussy as he continued to thrust up into you slowly, stopping to readjust his footing every once in awhile on the slippery shower floor.  Your bodies slithered over one another’s with each push and pull, and the explicit sounds you both were making would cause even a porn star to blush.

In one alarming moment, Dean’s foot slipped on the tile beneath him, causing both of you to gasp and take a second to recover from the heart-stopping near accident, but neither of you could control your giggles as Dean compensated by adjusting his position.  He set you down on your feet and lifted one of your legs up in a half-split position, hooking it over one of his arms and grabbing your hip with his other hand.  Because you were a bit shorter than him, he had to spread his stance a little and bend at the knees to line himself up with your sex again, but once he managed to get the angle right, he was able to take full advantage of the new posture.  Dean filled you all the way up, making you cry out huskily every time he pushed up into you.

“Fuck me Dean!” you called out, reaching around his waist and pulling him closer.

Dean responded by grabbing your leg behind the knee and pushing it back further, spreading you even wider for him, and his other hand left your hip and steeled against the wall behind you for leverage.  Picking up his pace, he grunted with every thrust and you squeaked out your gratification as he plowed into you over and over again, faster and deeper than before.  It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar vibration and snap in your abdomen and you moaned ardently while you rode out the contractions.  When your breathing slowed, Dean pulled free from you and closed his eyes as he stroked himself quickly so he wouldn’t come inside you, but you didn’t want him to have to finish himself.

Slowing his hand with your own, you knelt down before him, keeping full eye contact as you took him into your mouth.  He looked down at you , eyes beginning to glaze over as you sucked in your cheeks tightly around him, coaxing his release.  You bobbed your head back and forth, causing him to drop his head back ecstatically, and with a few more pulls you felt him twitch and spurt the first short stream of his salty nectar onto your tongue.  Relaxing your gag reflex and opening your mouth wider, you stretched out your tongue, catching the underside of his balls, taking his full length in and making him groan in surprise as he continued to discharge down your throat.  When he finished, you pulled back off him and licked all the errant drops that fell on your lips before standing up between him and the wall.  It was a good thing too, because the force of his exertion made him collapse into you and you had to hold him upright until he got his bearings back.

“What the hell did you just do, Y/N?” he asked, voice tinged with shock and awe.

“I hope I made you happy,” you responded with a smile.

He huffed out a little chuckle, “You have no idea!”

Dean’s head fell to your shoulder, and you soothed your hand through his matted hair while he left little quick pecks on your moist skin.  When he recovered he grabbed each side of your face to kiss you passionately, and when the kiss broke, his bright green eyes stared lovingly into yours.

“We better get cleaned up, before the water gets cold,” he said and shifted the both of you back under the stream. 

You watched him as he grabbed his shampoo bottle from the little niche along the shower wall and lathered up a small amount between his hands before slicking it through your hair.  His fingers massaged into your scalp and you let yourself relax under his touch.  The scent was slightly manly, but you didn’t care at the moment, all you could focus on was the way he took care of you.  When he finished working through your strands, he quickly scratched the leftover shampoo through his own short hair and then dipped your head back under the stream to wash away your suds before he switched positions to do the same with his.  The two of you took turns washing each other’s bodies, and then Dean reached behind him to turn off the water. 

In your haste to get naked earlier, you ignored the fact that you would need towels when you got out, so Dean had to jaunt over to the cabinet against the opposite wall to grab a couple, dripping water and leaving wet footprints across the length of the bathroom floor.  When he returned, he wrapped you in your towel and then went about patting himself dry before fixing his towel around his waist.  You had yours wrapped loosely around your body, holding it closed at your breasts, and as you began to gather your things from off the bench, Dean scooped you up in his arms and carried you out of the room.

“Hey, I need my clothes!” you protested.

“No you don’t,” he countered, “not tonight.”

Dean held you tight as he moved down the corridor towards his room, kicking the door closed behind him and placing you down gently on his bed.  Apparently, you were going to be staying with him tonight after all.


	4. Pillow Talk

You woke up with Dean trailing light kisses over your bare shoulder.  You groaned feeling sleep deprived, but yet blissful at the same time.  “What time is it?” you asked as you rolled over to face him.  Up close, you registered the smattering of freckles that covered his nose, which spilled down to pool under his eyes, and ran your finger down the bridge on impulse.

“It’s just after midnight,” he responded, looking at you strange, “and what are you doing?”

“Sorry, I just noticed how cute your freckles are!”

Dean pulled his face away and buried it in the pillow underneath him.  His voice was muffled by the pillow, “Stop it, you weirdo.”

That made you laugh.

He turned his head slightly to peek at you with one candy apple iris, like you were going to attack him or something. 

You had to admit the thought of smothering him in kisses did cross your mind.  “I’ve never seen this side of you,” you gushed.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, scoffing and bringing his head upright off the pillow.

You smiled, “You know, cute, boyish, innocent little Dean.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, “Little Dean is anything but innocent.” 

With a smirk and an eye roll, you brought your hand up to his face and placed a sugary kiss on his full lips.  On a night like this of course, you should have known it wouldn’t stay that way.  Dean’s eyes were hungry as he looked into yours with need.  Not that you hadn’t already gorged yourselves on one another three times earlier, but it was like you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves.  This must be what they call the “Honeymoon Phase”.  It’s not like you would know, being a hunter you never had anything more than random hookups and one-night-stands, especially with another hunter.  This thing with Dean felt different.  It felt right.  You didn’t want to jinx it, however, so you consciously decide to take it one day at a time.  Today was a banner day!

As your mouths explored, Dean managed to redirect you onto your back and he pressed himself up against your side, his hand wandering down, down, down until he was clutching at your inner thigh.  Fingers splayed along the soft skin there, he brushed them lightly over your still naked mound, teasing and titillating your most sensitive spots.  A contented sight passed from your lips giving him the go ahead to continue his endeavor.

“Tell me what turns you on,” he requested between kisses.

You sighed and turned your head as he kissed down your chin to your neck and tickled the electric spot just behind your earlobe.  “I think you already have a firm grasp on that,” you replied, closing your eyes and enjoying the things he was already doing to you.

He smiled against you, but that wasn’t the answer he wanted, “No, I mean what do you fantasize about?  What little secret desire gets you really hot?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him, more that you couldn’t think straight while he was doing what he was doing.  You bit down on your lip as he dipped a finger into your pussy, dragging your natural lubricant up through your folds and thumbing softly over your clit as he continued to nip and lick at your neck.  “Dean,” you exhaled.

“What is it baby girl,” he murmured in your ear, “tell me.”

“You’re scrambling my mind right now…r-re-reception is fuzzy…I’m gonna have t-to get back to you on th-that.”

His amusement fell on your ear drum like rain drops landing on wind chimes.  When Dean Winchester laughed it was better than any sound you’ve ever heard before.  “I guess I’ll just have to wing it then,” he decided, and he plunged two fingers inside you making you gasp loudly.  “That’s good, I’m good with that,” you breathed.

Once again Dean chortled lightly in your ear, before bringing his face around to kiss you again.  His fingers continued to push in and out of you, slow and tender, working you to a fever pitch and sending the blood surging through your veins to heat the nerves and muscles under your skin.  Your breathing quickened with your pulse and just as you were about to reach the peak, Dean pulled his fingers away from you, leaving behind an empty, cold feeling.  You whined.

He smiled at you and brought his slicked up fingers to your mouth, urging you to taste yourself.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet.”  When you parted your lips he slipped them inside, and when you sucked on his digits he couldn’t help but roll his eyes back into his head, closing his lids at the stimulation.  He recovered and revealed his plans to finish what he started.  “I just wanted you to have a taste before I take the rest for myself, cause I’m not sharing.”  His grin spread wide and your chest fell heavy as you let out the breath you were holding, while he snaked down your torso and landed face first inbetween your legs. 

Your heart resumed the Indy 500 it was running before and you couldn’t help but arch up into him, bringing your sex closer to him.  His tongue was buried inside you and his nose was tickling over your pleasure button.  With each moan he licked harder and pushed in deeper, stopping now and then to suck on your clit and make your moaning turn to wailing.  You were so close to orgasm that you brought your hand down to the back of his head, pushing him into you further and making him swear in appreciation of your boldness.  You called his name out as he took your fleshy nub inbetween his teeth and tugged gently, causing your body to spasm and your walls to contract.  As you came, a deep rumble hummed through his lips, his tongue making short work of licking you dry again, and he sucked you sweetly through the weakening of your little tremors.

Dean climbed up over you and kissed your forehead, then your closed eyelids, then the tip of your nose, before settling down on your lips as your breathing regulated and the stars that were swirling around in your mind’s eye subsided.  The kisses continued as he snuggled up next to you on the pillow, resuming the feather-light touch of his supple lips to your shoulder from before.  The heavy weight of his muscular arm roped around your waist making you turn into him, your naked chest pushed up against his and your foreheads pressed together.  “You are so beautiful,” he praised.

“Takes one to know one,” you responded, a little punch-drunk.

“Yeah that didn’t really make sense,” he said as he tried to contain his laughter.

You shook your head, “Shut up.  You know what I meant.”

Lying there together all night, naked and tangled under the sheets, and sometimes over the sheets, had been amazing.  Just the intimacy of it all had you feeling like you never had before, and you weren’t one hundred percent sure, but you just may have been falling in love with Dean Winchester.  The need to get even closer to him drove you to thread your leg between his, hooking your ankle around his calf to lock it in place.  But the motion also locked your groins together, and Dean grunted at the feeling of his hardened length against your warmth.  He had made you feel so good that you thought it would only be fair to return the favor.  You raised you knee to brush up against his balls, earning you a baritone growl, and moved your hand between you to grip his shaft.  Dean’s eyes squinted together as you traced your thumb over the head and then danced up and down along the sensitive skin there.  Before you could even get into a nice rhythm, his hand came down to grip yours and pulled you away.

“What are you doing?” you questioned.

“As good as that felt, and as much as I want it, I think we should take a little break,” he explained.  You weren’t exactly sure of what to make of that, and he picked up on your chagrin.  “I don’t want to burn out too early tonight, and we really need to rehydrate if we’re going to keep this up.  Plus, you must be hungry.  When was the last time you ate today?”

“Um…” you had to think about it, which meant it was a while ago, “probably lunch?”  Too be honest, you felt like you could just live off of his presence alone.

He kissed your nose again, and pushed the covers back off of both of you, “C’mon, let’s get something to eat and rest a bit.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but then right back to it mister!”

He chuckled and sat upright, running his hand absentmindedly over the nape of his neck and then standing up and walking over to his dresser.  You leaned up on your elbow and watched the muscles in his butt flex as he dug through the top drawer.  Naked Dean ass was way better than clothed Dean ass.  He turned around and caught you staring.  “Hey, this ain’t a free show!” he feigned irritation.

“Honey, I would _pay_ for a view like that,” you joked, sort of.  You actually might pay for that.

Dean pulled on a pair of boxers and then tossed you one of his flannel button-downs.  You sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, pulling the shirt over your shoulders and buttoning it up while he pulled one of his tight, black tees over his head.  When you got yours closed you stood up, and it was just enough to cover you up.  If you bent over however, that would be a different story.  The sleeves were hanging down over your fingertips, which made Dean smile.

“C’mere,” he coaxed, and when you walked over to him, he rolled the cuffs up along your wrists and then pushed the sleeves up to your elbows so that you could at least have use of your hands.  “Alright short stuff, let’s go,” he teased and turned to head out the door. 

But you were still feeling a little exposed without underwear, so you dipped your hand into the drawer he left open and grabbed a pair of his, pulling them on quickly under the flannel before following him out.  The two of you walked hand-in-hand down the hallway and into the kitchen.  Now that the bliss bubble had been broken and you were staring into the open fridge you realized just how hungry you were.  Dean reached around you and grabbed two bottles of water, handing one to you before unscrewing his cap and chugging half of his down at once.  The Winchester’s fridge wasn’t what you would call stocked, and when you opened one of the leftover Chinese containers to examine its contents, the smell almost knocked you off your feet.  “You might want to throw this out,” you said passing it over to Dean with a disgusted look on your face.

“Why what’s…ugh!” he said getting a whiff of his own and tossing it skillfully into the trash bin against the far wall.

“Well, thanks for the water,” you said with a chuckle.

He pushed you out of the way playfully and rummaged through the fridge, “No, no we’ve gotta have something edible in here.”  After checking through a handful of take-out containers and foil-wrapped packages, which all suffered the same fate as the alien life form that once was Chinese food, Dean pulled out a carton of eggs and checked the date.  “A-ha!  That’s what I’m talking about!”  His face lit up with a cheesy grin as he shut the door behind him and looked over at you with a wink.

You smiled back at him and then opened the fridge again to hunt down some cheese.

“What are you doing?  You don’t want scrambled eggs?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

There it was, a block of cheddar.  Twisting it in your hand you examined it for mold, but found none.  “Good to go!” you announced to yourself, “No, scrambled eggs sound amazing. I just want some cheesy goodness with mine.” 

After some rummaging through the messy cabinets, Dean found a cheese grater, handing it to you before pulling out a large metal bowl and whisk to scramble up the eggs.  There was something sweet about cooking with Dean.  He was surprising you on all fronts tonight; between the child-like playfulness you saw earlier and the domestic side that was on full display at the moment, you were beginning to see what he might have been like if he hadn’t been hunting all his life.  You liked what you were seeing.  With the clanging of the pans and the laughter being conjured up by your easy back-and-forth banter, things may have gotten a little too loud in there.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam grouched as he sleep stumbled through the door, “It’s 2:30 in the morning!” 

You had all but forgotten that Sam lived here too.  “Hey Sam!” you greeted him with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Extra eggs for Sammy,” Dean shouted, turning away from the eggs already in the hot pan and breaking a couple more into the bowl he used before, whisking them up quickly to add to the mixture already cooking.

Sam looked back and forth between you and his brother confused, “Y/N?  What are you doing here?”  The look of realization spread across his face as he took in what you were wearing.

You shifted uncomfortably and pulled self-consciously at the hem of Dean’s flannel.  With a nervous laugh you tried to redirect his thoughts, “I was…driving home from Washington and thought I’d stop by to say hey!”

“Hey,” he said raising one eyebrow at you.

“Hey!” you said cheerily as you ran over and gave him a big hug.

Just one more cursory glance at your outfit, and Sam let his suspicions about what you were really doing here drop.  You sucked at your bottom lip and then walked back over to the stove to help Dean plate up the now ready eggs.  Sam put a pot of coffee on and the three of you sat down to your late-night meal.  The creamy eggs and salty cheese hit the spot, making the grumbling in your stomach stop.  When you finished, you sat up for a couple more hours with the boys, just talking about anything and everything:  your latest hunt, the history of the Men of Letters, your excitement over the new Bond movie that was coming out.

“So, how long you staying with us?” Sam asked, giving a side glance at his brother.

You looked at Dean and then back at Sam.  “I don’t know,” you said honestly, “maybe the weekend, maybe a few more days than that?  I didn’t really come here with a plan.  It was just a stop along the way.”

When you said that you noticed the slight flinch that Dean made, but he covered it up pretty quickly.  You knew how he must have taken that, but that wasn’t how you meant it.  Of course you couldn’t really say anything to reassure him in front of Sam.  An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and Sam took that as his cue to head back to bed.  He said goodnight and that he’d see you in the morning, and then left you and Dean to get back to whatever it was that was going on with you two.

“C’mon, let’s clean this up and go to bed.  I’m getting tired now,” he said without looking at you, and he got up from the table, grabbing the empty plates and the frying pan you had used as a platter for the eggs and walking over to dump them in the sink.  “I’ll clean them up tomorrow.  You coming?”

“Dean, what I said just now, I didn’t mean it the way I think you took it,” you offered.

“I didn’t take it any way,” he shrugged and walked over to put his arm around you, “let’s get some sleep.  I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted!”

You smiled up at him tenderly and followed him back to his room.  When you undressed he gave you a funny look.  “What?” you asked.

“Are you wearing my underwear?” he questioned.

“I was feeling a little too naked,” you explained, “good thing I thought of it too or Sam might have gotten an eyeful!”

The cheeky grin returned to Dean’s face, “Well we wouldn’t want that would we?”

He got undressed as well, and climbed in the bed, holding the covers up for you to get in with him.  You pulled the boxers off, matching his level of undress, and curled up into his waiting arms.  “Are we really going to sleep?” you asked, just a tinge of sadness in your tone.

He pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head, “Damn woman, I can’t keep up with you!”

You smiled at that.

“In retrospect, the break was what did me in,” he said, “Don’t worry, I just need a couple hours, then I’ll be ready to go again.”


	5. "Green-eyed Monster"

Dean Winchester made good on his promises.  In fact you’re pretty sure that you had only just dozed off by the time he was rested enough to give you six more mind-blowing orgasms, which is why you found yourself sleeping until noon the next day.  When you slowly blinked open your eyes, your arm reached out across from you to land upon nothing but a whole lotta sheet.  Your vision came into focus and you huffed out a disappointed sigh at the lack of warm Winchester.  Slowly, you stretched and yawned yourself into a sitting position, and then ran your fingers through your bedraggled sex hair.  You could only imagine what you must look like at this moment.  Thinking back on the amazing you night you shared with Dean made you smile and you needed to go find that wonderful man and wrap your arms around him again.  But first…you needed a shower and a toothbrush; definitely a toothbrush.

Peeking your head out into the hallway to check that the coast was clear, you dashed naked to the next threshold and shut the door quickly when you got inside.  You hadn’t seen your own clothes since you first arrived yesterday.  Not that you were complaining, but you should probably get dressed before you go hunt Dean and Sam down.  You looked around frantically for you toiletries before remembering that you had already brought them to the shower room yesterday.  Since Dean whisked you off without them you figured they were still there, along with the change of clothes you had laid out for last night.  That would do, but it wasn’t like you could strut bare-assed down the corridors until you got there.  Luckily, there was an oversized grey bathrobe hanging on a hook in the corner of the room by the sink.  You pulled it on and tied it closed; even though it was huge on you, at least you’d be covered.

Sure enough, your things were right where you left them, and you made quick work of your shower.  You felt much better afterwards, refreshed and ready for the day, so you pulled on your dark denim jeans and your Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey racer back tank, brushed your teeth, and pulled your hair up into a messy bun before exploring your way through the halls again until you could hear the brothers talking.  When you rounded the corner, you found yourself in the big open space with all the old-timey computers and electrical equipment; your eyes immediately zeroed in on Dean who was leaning forward over Sam’s shoulder to see whatever his little brother was pointing out on the screen of his open laptop.  The click-clack of your heeled boots on the tile floor alerted them to your presence, and you made your way up the three short steps into the impressive library.

“Whatcha looking at?” you asked as you found your mark behind Sam’s opposite shoulder and leaned in to see for yourself.  It was a news article about a body that was found two states over, but you didn’t really get to process the details because you were distracted by Dean’s hand grabbing a handful of your butt.  When you glanced at him you were greeted with a wink, which then distracted you from whatever the hell Sam was rambling on about.  By the time you got your bearings again, Sam was saying that he thought it sounded like your kind of gig.  “Well I’m game,” you said with a shrug.

“Wait a minute,” Dean said, “you just got here and you want to get back out on the road again?”

“It’s what we do, Dean.  People are dying, right?”

The look on his face told you he didn’t want to go, “Yeah, but…”

“But what, Dean?” Sam challenged, “Y/N’s right, people are dying.  We can’t just ignore it.”

Dean grumbled, “Man, I had other plans.”  He gave you a cursory glance, which Sam missed since he had turned back to his screen to write down the address of the victim.

“What plans?” Sam asked incredulously, turning back to his brother again, “Since when do you say no to a job?”

"I didn’t say no!” Dean imitated like an eight year old.

“Good,” Sam acknowledged giving the sass right back, “You in, Y/N?”

You nodded, “You know me, always ready to kick it in the ass!”

It was settled then.  Sam got up to go get his bag packed with some clothes and supplies, and you were about to follow suit when you felt Dean grab your hand and stop you. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, closing the distance between you and looking up into his eyes.

He huffed out a breath before answering, “Maybe you should just stay here.  It’s probably nothing anyway, and me and Sam can get it.  We’ll be back before you know it.”

“What are you talking about?” you said confused, “Why wouldn’t I go with you?”

His hands rubbed up along your arms, “It might be dangerous, it’ll be better if you just stay out of harm’s way.”

The lovey-dovey mood you had been in the past couple of days instantly turned sour.  “I hunt with you guys all the time.  Hell I just got back from hunting a wraith on my own.  So what?  Now that we’re sleeping together I can’t hunt with you?”

Dean’s face hardened, ready for a fight, “I didn’t say that!  I just would prefer that you be safe is all.”

“Well I’d _prefer_ that you didn’t treat me differently now that…”

“Things are different?” he cut you off.

You closed your eyes and took a breath so that you didn’t lose your shit.  You didn’t want to fight with him.  “Look, Dean, whatever is happening between us…I like it,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and caressed him lovingly, “but I’m not gonna sit on the sidelines while you go off and risk your life saving the world.  I’m gonna be right there by your side, just like always.  Don’t ask me to change, because I’m never going to.”

He stared down at you pointedly, his jaw clenching as he wrestled internally with his instincts to keep you safe and the fact that you had the more logical argument.   “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, “but if you get hurt, I’m telling.”

Smiling at his attempt at humor, you leaned in to kiss him, and if it weren’t for Sam coming back in and clearing his throat, you probably would have stayed there like that forever, forgetting all about monsters and people dying. 

“You two about ready?” Sam asked trying to hide his smile.

Not even close.

 

*****

 

The eleven hour drive from Lebanon to Green River, Utah was arduous to say the least.  You had never driven long-distance with the boys before, always meeting them at whatever crime scene or ramshackle motel you had agreed on before-hand, so having to listen to Dean and Sam argue on and off all day had given you a massive headache.  They could pick a fight with each other over almost anything, including the choice of gas station they stopped at, which was frequent.  Why Dean insisted on driving the Impala everywhere was beyond you.  It got terrible gas mileage, and yeah it was a nice vintage car that perfectly suited Dean Winchester, but you couldn’t help but thinking how much faster you would have gotten to your destination if it weren’t for the frequent stops to fuel up.  About the only thing that salvaged the drive was the beautiful scenery through Colorado and Utah.  Still, by the time you pulled into the parking lot of the Robber’s Roost Motel, everyone was tired and cranky.

Green River was a sleepy little town with a population just under a thousand people, and most of the area was rundown and boarded up, perhaps an all too familiar sign of the economic bust of recent memory.  The motel was right on Highway 70 and was directly across from a church and only a short walk to the nearest bar.   It didn’t take a genius to know that this group would be spending their free time at the latter.  Dean pulled up in front of the office and got out to get a room, leaving you and Sam to wait for him in the car. 

“You alright back there?” Sam asked, twisting around to look at you over the bench seat.

You rubbed your temples and answered, “Yeah, just tired from the drive.  My head hurts too.”

“I think I have some aspirin in my toiletry kit.  I’ll give you some when we get to the room.”

“Thanks,” you said, wondering if staying in the same room with them was going to work for you.

Luckily, when Dean returned, he had two keys, having the foresight of you needing your own space.  Although, he probably was thinking more in terms of having alone time with you, but nonetheless it worked out in your favor.

“I got two rooms, side by side,” he announced climbing back into the driver’s seat, “Sammy and I will take the two queen, and you have a king, but it’s a handicap room.  It was all they had left next to each other.”

“Whatever, that’s fine with me,” you said, just happy to have a space to hide from their bickering.

Because the motel was so old and built before modern regulations, the fact that you had a handicap accessible room really only meant that it had a few hand rails added in the bathroom and along the wall by the bed.  They really shouldn’t label it as such, because it’s kind of a slap in the face to someone who really needs the accessibility for a wheel chair.  For a minute you thought about chastising them on TripAdvisor, but there were plenty of much nicer, modern accommodations outside of town so you figured you had bigger fish to fry.  After you got yourself unpacked and set up a little you walked next door to get that aspirin from Sam.

He was the one that answered the door when you knocked, and you took a seat in the chair by the window while he went to the bathroom to fetch you a couple pills.  Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed flipping through the channels absentmindedly.  You could tell he was still in a shitty mood from arguing with his brother all day, so you got up and took a seat next to him at the end of the saggy mattress.  “You okay?” you asked, rubbing your hand up and down his back.

Tossing the remote aside on the bed, he looked over to you.  “I am now,” he said sliding his hand behind your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.  It was interrupted by Sam emerging from the bathroom with your medicine, which only brought about Dean’s foul mood again.

After thanking Sam, graciously accepting the glass of water he brought out, you downed the pills and then handed the empty glass back to him.  When he returned to the bathroom, you leaned in and whispered in Dean’s ear, “It’s late, why don’t you come stay with me tonight?  We’ll get some sleep, and you’ll be better in the morning.”  There really was no point hiding the fact that something was going on between the two of you; Sam already caught you canoodling twice, and you figured he probably wouldn’t mind some time away from his brother either.  To be frank, it was probably in all your best interests.

Since you had all already agreed to pick up the case early the next morning, Sam was perfectly fine with the idea; and you and Dean left the room and walked next door back to yours.  You realized how tired you were once you got out of the car and rested a bit, so you went right to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  You just needed a good night’s rest cradled in your lover’s arms.  As you were taking your makeup off, Dean popped his head in the door.

“Hey, I feel like a drink.  You wanna go to that bar down the street?”

You stared at him in disbelief, your makeup half off, “I just started getting ready for bed!  I can’t go looking like this!”

“Oh c’mon, you look fine,” he offered, “Let’s go have some fun.”

You sighed, “Dean, I’m kinda tired.  I really don’t feel like going out right now.”

His face fell, but he quickly covered it up with his typical bravado.  “Yeah, fine.  I’ll just go down there myself, have a few drinks.”

What?  Was he really going to leave you here alone while he went out drinking?  Because you were too stunned at his decision to think of anything better to say, you just said, “Fine.”  He leaned in to kiss your forehead and then grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.  Feeling a little jilted, although to be honest it was silly to feel that way, you finished taking off your makeup and brushed your teeth before putting on some comfy PJs and climbing under the covers in the bed.  You were so tired you should have fallen asleep right away, but instead you lay awake staring at the ceiling picturing all the skanky women that were probably hitting on Dean at the moment.  You had watched it happen a million times before, but the thought of it now was making the little green monster rage within you.  Jealousy was not your strong suit, but it was getting the better of you at the moment.  Trying to shake it off, you tossed and turned, not able to get very comfortable and every time you closed your eyes you could picture it:  fingers brushing lightly over his arm, mouths puckered up next to his ear so he could hear her over the noise, nervous laughter at every little thing he said, and eyes mesmerized by those piercing green orbs of his.  _Dammit!_  You were not going to get any sleep anytime soon. 

Kicking the covers off violently, you got up and got dressed again, taming your hair by pulling it into a sharp ponytail and throwing on a little blush and gloss before shoving your room key into your back pocket and slamming the door behind you.  The two minute walk to the bar was nothing, and you pushed your way through the front door.  The space was dark, but small, so you easily found Dean sitting on a barstool chatting with the attractive bartender in front of him.  Yeah…just like you thought she was practically throwing herself at him, leaning in to show off her cleavage, giving him her best smile… _Bitch!_   Two can play at this game!

You walked straight to the back corner where the jukebox sat and inserted a dollar bill, picking a handful of songs to fuel your fire; Bon Jovi’s _Bad Medicine_ started blaring through the speakers, drowning out the bars low key background music.  With your head held high, you walked straight down the aisle that had the most crowded tables and made sure to sway your hips as you picked the lucky guy you were going to flirt with relentlessly.  Actually the pickin’s were slim, but it wasn’t like you were looking to hook up.  You just wanted Dean to feel the same heat of jealousy you were experiencing.  Halfway down the path, one guy was staring at you with a glint in his eye as he sipped from his beer.  He wasn’t going to know what hit him. 

Smiling at him seductively and batting your eyelashes as you walked by did the trick, and he grabbed your hand to pull you back towards him.  “Hey there baby,” he slurred, half-drunk already, “come and sit down with us.”

_Like shooting fish in a barrel,_ you thought and turned to look down at him as he licentiously eyed you up and down, settling on your chest.  You put a finger under his chin and turned his face up to meet yours, tsking before saying, “Not that I’m not flattered, but I’m up here, honey.”  One of his friends gave a low whistle, and reached around you to pat you on the ass.  “I’ll treat ‘cha right darling, forget him.”  Your instinct was to punch out his lights, but you had to stay on mission, and if Dean caught a glimpse of you being manhandled, then all the better.  You continued to flirt between the men, taking a seat on grab-ass’s lap, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and crossing your legs seductively into the aisle.  A quick glance towards the bar told you that Dean hadn’t noticed you yet, so you were going to have to cause a bigger scene if you wanted his attention.

Luckily, the guys at the table were drunk and easy to manipulate.  After some back and forth teasing, you pitted one friend against the other for your affections and grabbed the first guy by the hand to drag him to his feet.  You began to dance with him, following the same formula you had seen being used by so many trashy women on Dean, and intermittently toyed at the collar of his shirt while swaying your hips up against him.  The guy was loving the attention, and before you knew it, his buddy was grinding up against you, hands on your hips as he sandwiched you in.  As if on cue, the jukebox switched over to your second selection, Warrant’s _Cherry Pie_.  As you danced, masterfully avoiding their more lurid advances by playing hard to get, you stealthily kept an eye on the bar.  Finally, you noticed the bartender looking at you and she mouthed something you obviously couldn’t hear to Dean, causing him to turn and look in your direction.  You turned back to focus in on your dance partners like you didn’t even know he was there, but it was only a matter of seconds before you felt your arm being grabbed and you were yanked away from the bump and grind.

You snapped your head up to find Dean glaring down at you.  “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“Hey, buddy,” Grab-ass said, “I think she was dancing with us!”

Doing your best to control your facial expression, you cringed internally for the guy.  If Dean was as angry as he seemed, the backtalk wasn’t going to end well.  Maybe you should have thought this through a little more. 

Sure enough, Dean gave him a murderous sideways glance.  “Trust me, _buddy_ , you don’t want to do this.”

The other guy backed his friend, to his peril, “Listen, man, she’s obviously not into you the way she was grinding on my dick just now.  You should just walk away before this gets ugly.”

Oops! 

Dean pulled you back behind him and stepped towards the guy with a deep chuckle, nodding down at his feet.  Faster than your eyes could register, his head snapped up and his fist connected hard to the guys nose.  His buddy grabbed Dean’s shoulder to get a lick in but Dean was ready and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying backward into another table, the sound of glass shattering punctuating the action.  With blood trickling down his lip, Tough Guy threw a punch, catching Dean off guard, hitting him square in the jaw.  Another swing went flying, but Dean dodged, grabbing the guys arm and spinning him around, twisting the arm behind his back and pushing him hard against a support column nearby.  Grab-ass was on him now, pulling Dean’s arms back away from his friend, and giving Tough Guy a chance to sucker punch him in the stomach.

_Fuck!  What the hell did I start!_   You ran up to Grab-ass and delivered an elbow to his temple, knocking him out and effectively freeing Dean, who then took the opportunity to land a swift head-butt to the other guy.  The bouncers were now making their way towards the scuffle, so you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him away from the downed local.  “C’mon, Dean, we’ve gotta go!” you yelled, urging him towards the side door.  When you made it outside without further incident, Dean pulled away from you and stormed off towards the motel.  You had never seen him so angry before.  Running to catch up with him, you grabbed his shoulder and he stopped short, spinning around and causing you to smash into his chest.

“What the fuck was that all about back there, Y/N?” he bellowed.

All the envious raging you were doing before had been taken over by foolish guilt.  “I’m sorry,” you pleaded, “I was trying to give you a dose of your own medicine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You were not proud of having to admit this, “I was mad that you left by yourself, and I kept thinking about how some chick would be all over you, that I was seeing red!  When I got to the bar, there you were flirting with the bartender, so I figured I’d do some flirting of my own.”

He huffed and turned to walk away, mumbling, “Fucking ridiculous!"

“Hey!” you called after him, getting irritated again, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to sit there and watch you pick up other women?  I can’t help it if I got a little jealous!”

He stopped again, “So you go and try to do the same to me?  How does that even sound like a good idea?”

“I just wanted you to see what you’d be missing out on!”

“I’m not missing out on anything, I’m with you!” he yelled down.

You bit down your lip, insecurity plaguing your thoughts, “Are you? Or am I just another notch in your belt?”

Dean’s face turned to stone and he puffed out a breath.  “I’m done with this tonight,” he said turning his back on you and continued walking.

You stood there defeated for a second, before following.  Not a word was exchanged, and the tension was thick like mud. When you finally reached the motel, you were surprised when he unlocked the door to your room and stepped inside, thinking for sure he would have gone into his own and slammed the door in your face.  It gave you pause.

“You coming?” he asked, anger still coating the tenor of his voice.

After staring at him for a few minutes, you slipped past him into the room, but you jumped as he kicked the door shut behind him.  His hands were on your hips, pushing you forward and bending you over the small table at the front of the room and pinning you there with your arms behind your back.

“You wanted to make me jealous, huh?” he breathed into your ear as he folded himself over your frame.  “You got me into some trouble there, sweetheart.  I think I’m going to have to punish you for it.”

_Shit!_

Dean bit down on your shoulder, just hard enough to cause simultaneous pleasure and pain.  His lips then soothed the spot, his tongue flicking over it for good measure.  Sneaking his hand around you, he began to unbutton your jeans one handed, while he held your wrists immobile in his other hand.  You felt his fingers dip underneath the edge of your panties and then push down through your folds, tickling over your clit and ending up circling around your opening.  A small sigh passed through your lips, and you suddenly found yourself on your back, legs dangling over the edge of the table, looking up at him. 

“Is this what you wanted, to make me angry?” he questioned, his face still hard, but his beautiful lips turning up in the corners slightly, betraying his amusement. 

His hand was still holding both of yours in place, this time over your head on the wooden surface of the table, the other was tickling up under your shirt.  You hadn’t told him what you liked in bed when he had asked the night before, but he seemed to find one of your kinks on his own.  Being dominated turned you one, especially when you were pinned down or tied up, and you could feel your body responding, wetting the cotton liner of your nylon panties.  You were so wrapped up in the sensation of it all that you didn’t answer his question.

His hands gripped tighter around your wrists, “Answer the question!”

“No,” you boldly answered, breathing shallowly, “just to make you jealous.”

“Well it worked,” he responded, “I guess I’m just going to have to claim what’s mine!”

His free hand lifted your shirt up to reveal your bra, and he brought lips down to kiss and lick at the cleavage that spilled out of the top.  Teeth grazed over the silky fabric, finding the nipple and nibbling gently, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.  Bringing his hand underneath you, he deftly unhooked the garment that was covering what he desired, and when it was loose he pushed it up with his nose baring your breasts to him.  His mouth made short work of hardening each peak, and he again used his teeth to tug gently at them, sending shivers throughout your heated body.   Suddenly, his mouth formed over your right nipple and he sucked in hard, making you jerk up into him with a gasp.  His lips made a popping sound as they disengaged, but he was quick to move to your left side, repeating the motion and making you jump again.

Dean hungrily attacked your throat with bites and kisses, sucking a patch of skin at the crook of your neck and shoulder into his puckered mouth and leaving behind a dark purple mark.  “You’re mine, Y/N,” he said calmly, but firmly, staring down at you with eyes that told you not to challenge him.  “Say it!  Say your mine!”

“I’m yours, Dean,” you replied breathily, to which he responded by yanking down your jeans and panties in one fell swoop.

One long finger found your opening and was quickly inserted, pushing into you until your lips hit the pads at the top of his palm.  You were so wet at the way you were being manhandled that it made a squishing sound as he pumped another finger into you, and when he quickened his pace, you could feel your body go numb with pleasure.  Just as you were about to climax, he stopped the motion and removed his digits.  The slippery lubrication rolled down further between your legs and Dean helped it along by sliding the fingers he used to spread it down and swirl around your rim.

By this point he already had you panting, but you squealed in delight when his fingertips pressed down on your perineum, earning you a husky groan of satisfaction from your lover.

Dean leaned down to kiss you sweetly, but the look in his eyes was full of fire.  “I’m going to take what I want as payback for what you did to me earlier, but if it gets to be too much you tell me, okay?”

_Oh God, what is he going to do?_   You nodded your head silently in anticipation.

“Stand up,” he ordered as he backed away to give you room to move.

You did as he asked, and when you got back on your feet, you stepped out of the clothing that pooled around your ankles. 

“Now,” he continued, “be a good girl and turn around.  Bend over the table; let me see that beautiful ass of yours.”

Without hesitation, you did as you were told, and Dean gave a low whistle when you presented him with your backside.  The clang of his metal belt buckle and the sound of a zipper dragging across denim hit your ear, and then you felt two firm hands squeeze your cheeks and spread them apart only to let them bounce back into their natural place.  His middle finger found the tight knot at your rear, and you breathed deeply when he massaged your wetness around it.  Then you felt his finger penetrate you slowly, pressing just at the entrance, his thumb finding your perineum again causing you to gasp.

“I’m gonna take this tight little ass of yours,” he said lecherously, “so I need you to relax sweetheart.  I promise I’ll be gentle…at first.”

You did your best to release your muscles and let your weight be supported by the table beneath you, and before you could even blink, you felt his rock hard shaft slip past the point of no return.  Steadily, Dean pressed further and further into you, letting out a string of half-formed cuss words as he got deeper and deeper.  Your breath caught; half enjoying the sensation of friction and half tensing at the feeling of fullness. This wasn’t the first time you had tried anal, but it wasn’t something you did often, and you weren’t used to being penetrated this way.  As Dean bottomed out, you involuntarily clenched, causing him to throw his head back with a guttural growl.

“Relax!” he demanded, and when you managed to follow his instruction he asked, “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you said timidly.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.  Stay loose, okay?”

Nodding, you closed your eyes and tried to compose yourself again.  You know Dean would never hurt you, and if this was going to be anything like any other time you two had been together, than there was nothing to worry about.  He would take care of you.

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of having him inside you this way, and when he felt you were ready, he slowly dragged his cock back until he was almost out of you again.  The next push was a little quicker, and the next quicker still, and when you finally got comfortable and let a quiet moan escape, Dean hit a steady rhythm.  With his hands bracing your hips, he shoved into you, air hissing through clenched teeth as you began to sink into the pleasure zone and let out a few cuss words of your own.  “Unghh God, baby, you feel so good!” he exclaimed, and he picked up the pace a bit more.

“God, Dean, don’t stop!” you requested, quickly climbing towards the apex of your pleasure.

A hard slap connected with the fleshy part of your rear, causing you to jump slightly, which yanked your body away from him for the moment.

A displeased grunt sounded behind you, and you felt his hand push down on the back of your neck to hold you back in place.  “Don’t do that again,” he commanded, before pushing himself back into you.  His speed increased now, and you could hear him groaning as he tried his best to hold back until you were satisfied. 

You brought your hand down between your legs and wet your fingers with your own slick, circling around your clit to help yourself along as he continued to thrust into you.  With Dean hitting your pleasure spot repeatedly and the motion of your own hand, you let out a squeaky, breath-filled gasp and cursed your way through a throbbing orgasm.  You could feel Dean tense at the sensation and it wasn’t long before he had to pull out with another husky grunt; the warm wetness of his ejaculate landing in spurts on your lower back and ass, claiming your once again.  The table shook slightly as his hands fell to the edge next to your torso, supporting his weight. 

The two of you stayed very still, the only sound around you was heavy breathing.  After a long moment, you heard Dean say, “Stay there,” and then he was off towards the small bathroom at the opposite side of the room.  When he came back, he cleaned up the mess he made and then gently lifted you up off the table and into his arms, carrying you to the bed and stripping himself of his shirt before crawling in next to you.  Lying there, you both looked into each other’s eyes, and he absent-mindedly brushed strands of your hair out of your face.

“That was different,” you said.

“Different bad or different good?” he asked.

“Good,” you offered making his mouth turn up in one corner, “maybe I should make you jealous more often?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, “Yeah, let’s not do that again.  I don’t like when people touch my things.”

“Your things?” you challenged.

“I’m serious.  Seeing those guys touch you like that made me crazy!  I could have killed them!”

You shook your head, but smiled, “I’m sorry, Dean.  I didn’t know it would start all that.  I was just feeling a little insecure, it was stupid.”

Dean placed both his hands on either side of your face and focused deeply into your eyes.  “You don’t ever have to feel insecure with me, Y/N.  I’m yours.  God help me, I’ve never said that to anyone before, but it’s true.  Don’t ever think you aren’t enough for me.”

A happy tear trickled down from the corner of your eye, and you pressed your lips to his in relief.


	6. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. I've just been so busy with work that I find very little time to write. I promise that I will finish this story up at some point. I can't promise when, but I plan on finishing this story before getting back to work on my other ones. For those of you waiting for an update on "Sweet Child O' Mine", that will be the next one to wrap up. Thank you all for the nice comments and the kudos and bookmarks and such. It's nice to see how you are reacting to the story. Hope you enjoy this one and thanks again for reading!

When you woke up the next morning, your muscles were a little sore.  A good sore, but sore nonetheless.  Stretching your arms up and your toes down simultaneously, you let out a long yawn and opened your eyes.  You could hear the rushing of water from the sink through the closed bathroom door, and figured Dean had already gotten up.  A few seconds later he emerged dressed in his Fed suit, grabbing his dress shoes off the chair in the corner.

“Morning sweetheart!” he smiled as he sat on the end of the bed to lace them up.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, “Are you guys trying to leave without me?”

Dean smirked as he laced up his other shoe, “Not at all.  I can’t help it if your lazy ass wanted to sleep all morning.”

You snaked your foot underneath the covers, nudging his butt forcefully, “Why didn’t you wake me up, smart ass!”

He turned around, grabbing your ankle to stop it from squirming underneath him, “Cause you were too damn cute lying there with your hair all messed up and that blissfully satisfied smile on your face.”

You smiled back up at him.  “When are we leaving?” you asked, sitting upright and pulling your ankle away from his grasp so you could swing your legs off the side of the bed.

“Sam’s in the car waiting,” he responded, as he stood back up and walked over to the mirror to adjust his tie.

“What?!” you shouted, scrambling from the bed to dig your undergarments out of your bag.  “Dean, I need time to get ready!  I can’t pretext as a Fed looking like this!”

He grabbed your hand, making you pause on your way to the bathroom.  “Y/N, calm down.  We don’t need you for this part.  We’re just talking to the local police and the vic’s parents.  Relax.  We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Your face dropped into a scowl again, “Dean, I told you I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while you…”

"I’m not saying you are,” he cut you off, “I’m just saying we don’t need three of us going out there this morning.  I’m sparing you from the boring part.  Take your time getting ready, and we’ll come get you before we grab lunch so we can talk about our next move.”  His hands were sliding up and down your arms soothingly.

Actually, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.  The boys could handle the interrogation, and you could squeeze in a morning run before getting ready for the hunt later.  It would make you feel more energized and ready for the fight.  Feigning a sigh, you dropped your shoulders and relaxed and then wound your arms around Dean’s waist as he smiled down at you.  “I guess that’s okay,” you relented, smiling back.

“I’m already regretting this plan,” Dean said, pulling you in closer. 

 You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth that was Dean Winchester making you relax further, until he planted a quick kiss on the top of your head and said his goodbye.

After he left, you did exactly as he prescribed.  You took your time getting motivated, and by the time you got out of the shower after your run, you heard the rumbling engine of the Impala pulling into the empty parking space outside your door.  With your hair wrapped up in a towel, you quickly threw on some jeans and a tee-shirt just in time for Dean and Sam to walk through the threshold.  

“How’d it go?” you asked as you unwrapped your hair and began toweling the damp strands to squeeze out any leftover moisture.

“The crime scene photos were pretty gruesome, but we think we know what we’re dealing with here,” Sam announced.

“What is it?” you asked impatiently.

“Witches,” Dean replied, disgust evident on his face.

 “ _Witches_?  Plural?” you tried to clarify, “How do you know?”

 Dean began rifling through his duffel bag looking for something while Sam answered you, “The magic that was used on the victim, it practically disintegrated the body, it had to have been a heavy duty spell to pull that off.”

“Which means we have a coven on our hands,” Dean said with a smile, “…and I get to kill some witches.”  He was holding up a tiny golden bullet with what looked like some kind of inscription on it.  “Witch-killing bullets,” he announced proudly with a grin.

You smiled at his boyish-ness, “So, what’s the plan?  How do we find them?”

“I’m working on it,” Sam said, “Y/N, help me with the research?”

Much of the afternoon was spent going over the case, trying to find the motive for the attack.  The internet news reports and the victim’s social media pages could only take you so far, but you now knew that the vic was at one time a part of the coven.  One thing you knew about witches: a coven would kill any witch that betrayed them.  That information was good enough motive for the three of you, but there were still missing pieces of information that you needed; namely, where the coven was located.  It took the rest of the day, and well into the evening, but you finally narrowed your search down to an old farmhouse north of the motel. 

Sam and Dean went back to their room to get some additional supplies, while you loaded your gun with some of the witch-killing bullets Dean had taken out earlier.  Seeing as you were all seasoned hunters, it only took a few minutes to be ready to go.  Sam headed out to the car and Dean came back in to the room to get you.  He came up behind you as you were loading up your weapons bag on the end of the bed and placed his hands on your hips tenderly.

“Maybe you should hang back,” he said.

“Dean, we are not having this argument again,” you responded, resolved, “Besides, if we are up against a coven as powerful as we think they are, then you’re gonna need me as back-up.  It can’t always just be the two of you against the world.”

He huffed out a deep breath, “I just want you to be safe.”

You turned to face him, “I will be as safe as any hunter can ever be.  If it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t do anything reckless or stupid.  Not that you’ve ever known me to do something like that.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in an unwilling smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  Looking back on it now, you should have known he was up to something, but before anything could register he was kissing you, and when Dean Winchester kisses you, logic flies out the window.  You could feel him turn you sideways and slowly press you back against the wall, but still, his lips moving against yours was all you could really focus on.  You didn’t even notice the intrusive bar that was digging into your lower back.  It wasn’t until you heard the metallic zip of the handcuffs around your wrist that you understood.  He was using his charms to trick you into bondage, and not the good kind.

“Dean, what are you doing?!” you asked, alarmed.

“I’m keeping you safe,” he said, as he maneuvered you down to a sitting position with his legs and managed to wind the chain around the handicap rail along the wall before fastening the other cuff to your free wrist.  You struggled against him, but it was no use.  He outsmarted you by playing dirty, and you were mad as Hell!

“Dean Winchester if you don’t unlock these right now I swear to God…”

“Honey, you can swear whatever you want, but you are not coming with us.  I can’t do my job if I’m worried about you.”  He moved your bag-of-tricks to the opposite wall as he headed towards the door.

“Dean!” you shouted, pulling hard against your restraints as he walked away from you.

He stopped and turned to glance at you over his shoulder, “Sorry, sweetheart.  We’ll have to fight about this after I wipe out that coven.”  The door slammed shut behind him, and shortly after you heard the tell-tale rumbling of the Impala as it skidded out of the parking lot.

Letting out a frustrated scream, you thrashed around, pulling and twisting around on the cuffs in a desperate attempt to free yourself.  You knew it was no use.  He made sure the cuffs were tight enough around your wrists that you couldn’t slip them, and the chain between was wound around the metal rail so that it was shortened and didn’t give you much slack to work with.  If you could get into your bag, you might have been able to get to your lock pick with your feet, but he had anticipated that when he moved it away from you before he left.  “Uggggggh!  Dammit Dean!”  After struggling for a few more minutes you collapsed up against the wall exhausted.  This wasn’t going to get you out.  How could he do this to you?  You surveyed your surroundings to see if there was anything useful nearby that could extricate you, but nothing was within your very limited reach. 

You had no choice but to sit there and wait, seething.

 

*****

 

It had been hours since the boys left.  You heard your cell phone ring in your bag a few times, but of course you couldn’t get to it, since your jerk of a boyfriend had betrayed your trust and locked you up.  Your mind wandered to what was happening out at the farmhouse.  Did they find the witches?  Were they winning, were they in trouble?  Were they on their way back victorious or, you had to swallow a lump in your throat thinking about it, were they even coming back?  Just as you had allowed your mind to wander into that dark place, the sound of Baby’s grumbling in the distance hit your ears.  You sighed both in exasperation and relief.  They were safe, they were back, and you would finally get out of these cuffs and beat the crap out of Dean Winchester!

Your relief was short lived, when Sam came busting through the door supporting the limp frame of his brother, bloody and bruised and so close to unconsciousness that you suspected adrenaline was the only thing helping Sam keep Dean on his feet.  Ice filled your veins and your head swam at the image.  You rattled the cuffs against the rail, “Sam, get me out of these!” 

He looked at you bewildered and placed his brother down on the bed before racing to you.  “What the hell happened to you?  Dean said you were going to meet us there!  Who did this to you?”

“Your brother!  The keys are in his back pocket.  What happened to him?” you asked alarmed.

“The coven knew we were coming,” he responded darkly, as he fished the keys out of Dean’s jeans and made quick work out of freeing you.  With Sam’s face just inches from yours you now focused on the cuts and contusions he had suffered as well.

“Are you okay, Sam?” you asked with sympathy.

“I’m fine,” he said, helping you to your feet, “Dean’s in bad shape though.”

Your heart stopped momentarily at the words, and you stood stock still, paralyzed, as he went back to tending to his brother. 

“Y/N!  I need your help!” Sam shouted, “Get me a warm wash cloth and grab the needle and thread out of my medical kit in my bag next door.  Oh and there’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the car, grab it.”  Sam threw you the keys.

You rushed into the boys digs through the adjoining door and rifled through Sam’s bag.  You grabbed the entire medical kit, because by the looks of it, Dean needed more than just stitches.  Looping around out their front door to the car, you grabbed the whiskey and slammed the trunk shut, before racing into your own room again to help Sam.

“Dean, stay awake,” Sam was ordering as you handed him what he needed.

The two of you worked together to get Dean out of his bloodied clothes, first working off his jacket, then his flannel, and finally ripping the tee-shirt from his body.  The fabric clung to the bloody mess underneath, and when Sam pulled it off, Dean made a muffled grunt of incoherent pain.  You were horrified, but at the moment you couldn’t let your feelings for him cloud your judgement, you had to let your hunter’s instincts kick in to take care of his wounds.  He had multiple lacerations across his abdomen and chest, some deep enough that they needed to be sutured as Sam suggested.  His face was bruised, his left eye forced shut from the swelling, and he had further cuts and scrapes along his arms and shoulders.

“What happened, Sam?” you had to ask, emotion getting the best of you for a moment.

Sam poured whiskey on a particularly deep gash, eliciting a painfully stirring reaction from Dean’s prone form.   “We were surrounded. They just kept attacking from all corners.  Dean got the brunt of it.”  He began suturing the wound.  “They were flinging him around like rag doll!”

When Sam was done you cleaned the area with the warm washcloth and taped fresh gauze over the stitches, before going about cleaning up the rest of the abrasions.  The two of you worked over him for close to a half hour until there was nothing left to stitch, cover, or clean.  It was as good as it was gonna get without a hospital, and you both knew how Dean felt about hospitals.  The less attention hunters could bring to themselves, the better.  There were too many questions involved about how they got the wounds in the first place, then the police would show up…it was never a good scene.

Dean had fallen asleep.   After you tucked him in under the covers, you tended to Sam’s wounds as well. 

“So do we still have a witch problem?” you asked, unsure of the outcome of the fight amidst all the chaos.

“No, it’s taken care of,” Sam answered, “It was just a long, hard fight.”  He seemed exhausted.  “Why did Dean lock you up?”

"Because he’s a pain in the ass who thinks he’s invincible, which clearly he’s not,” you answered as you taped a piece of gauze to his left cheek, “There, you’re good.”

You were still pissed at him.  They could have used you in that fight.  If you had been there instead of handcuffed to a rail, Dean might not have been in such bad shape, but it wasn’t like you could take out your anger on him now.  First you had to get him healed up; then you could kick his ass all over again.

Sam thanked you and said goodnight before heading off into his room and shutting the door behind him. 

You looked over at Dean lying on the bed, snoring slightly, and let out a long sigh.  It broke your heart to see him like this.  It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him injured before, you’ve all tended to each other’s wounds time and time again, but now you had a larger stake in his well-being.  You loved him. 

With a heavy heart, you took off your boots, socks and jeans, and climbed into the bed next to him.  You had to lift up and pull at your tee-shirt when it got twisted underneath you, and it made the mattress bounce just enough to wake Dean.   You watched as his one good eye blinked open to look up at you.  “I could kill you, you know that?” you said tenderly.

He gave a little half smirk, “Yeah, well you’ll have to get in line.  I think those witches put me down for the count.”

Tears sprang to your eyes.  He was always so cavalier about the prospect of dying, you knew that there was something deeply broken inside, but you had hoped that being together would have erased that annoying part of him.  Apparently not.  “What were you thinking?  I could have been there for you.  You might not be in this mess right now if you had just…”

“But _you_ could have,” he asserted, “I kept you safe from this.  That’s all I care about.”

You shook your head at him, at a loss for words.  There were so many emotions swirling around your head you didn’t know where to even begin.  Bringing your hand up to his face, you softly caressed his cheek and ran your fingers over the cut above his eyebrow. 

He closed his eye again and sank into your touch.  This was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.  He laid there as you brushed your fingers along the ridge of his nose, across his split lip, and down his neck into the hollow at the base of his throat.  His breathing slowed and eventually he fell back asleep as you continued to rub up and down his chest soothingly avoiding the cuts and scrapes as best you could.  It was then you knew that you would do anything for this man.  It was then that your anger dissolved.

Pulling the covers up, you found a place to lay your head gently on his chest without hurting him, avoiding all his wounds, and you closed your eyes to sleep.  A moment later, you felt Dean’s arm slide around you, pulling you closer subconsciously as he slept.


	7. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pause between updates. I've just been very busy at work. I want to finish this story as much as y'all want me to, so I promise I'll write whenever I have the time. This is not a very long chapter, but I need more time to work out the new lore. As always, I love your comments, so feel free!

_A low hum filled your ears, stirring you gently awake.  It was still dark outside, but you could see a bright light shining around the edge of the door leading to the parking lot outside.  It seemed to be getting brighter and brighter, filling the cracks around the outer edges.  You blinked your eyes a few times and sat up, curious as to the source of the light. You stood up and walked slowly to the door, and as you got closer the humming that woke you up sounded more like chanting.  “Latin verse,” you said aloud, before quietly unlatching the chain and turning the deadbolt.  Your hand reached down and twisted the knob, opening the door, the bright light spilling into the motel room, making it glow intensely and unnaturally.  You shielded your eyes with the back of your hand and stepped out into a large grassy field.  The light was gone, but the chanting continued.  You could see the flickering glow of a bonfire ahead in the distance.  As you got closer you could see a circle of people in long, black hooded robes holding hands, the chanting louder now that you were closer.  A few more steps and your eyes widened, your breath hitched, and your heart sank.  You dropped to your knees as a piercing, keening sound escaped your mouth.  Sam and Dean were tethered to a long, upright pole in the center of the bonfire, and you watched in horror as their flesh sizzled off before the witches turned their gaze towards you._

Sitting upright in bed, you sucked in a long whistling breath.  Sweat poured down your forehead as you tried to right your breathing.  A hand smoothed up your spine and Dean was suddenly sitting up at your side.  It had been weeks since Sam had brought his brother back to the motel looking like a broken toy, but the nightmares were still plaguing you.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Dean asked with concern.

“I’m fine,” you responded, bitterness tinging your tone.  You pushed down the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, turning away from him.  “I just had another nightmare.”

Dean sighed in frustration behind you and fell back down onto his pillow.

The nightmares had been a constant reminder of how he betrayed you, and even though you forgave him, the vision of his bloody, beaten body always lingered at the back of your mind.  It had been a constant source of tension between the two of you since you got back.  “I can’t help it, Dean!  I don’t want to have the dreams, they just surface!”

“I know sweetheart, I’m sorry, just lay back down.  We need to get some sleep.”  Dean opened his arm for you to snuggle back up to him, but you couldn’t.  The nightmares always fueled the anger in your gut.  It was better to walk around for a bit.  You could calm down and then maybe you wouldn’t dream about it anymore that night.  Standing up, you opened the second drawer in Dean’s dresser and grabbed one of his many black tee-shirts to slip on over your half naked form.  It was long enough to cover your panties, so even if Sam was up wandering around at this late hour, you wouldn’t feel immodest.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up again.

“I just need to clear my head, alright?” you spat out irritably.

Dean spat back, “Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?  Everytime you have a bad dream I’m gonna get the cold shoulder?”

“It’s not like that Dean,” you said, spinning around to face him, “I don’t think you understand how I felt that night.  If you hadn’t chained me up I could have helped you, I could have prevented you from getting hurt!”

Dean threw the rest of the covers off of him angrily and jumped out of bed, walking to the sink in the corner to splash some water on his face.  “I don’t want talk about this again,” he sighed.

“Well maybe _I_ need to talk about it again, it’s obviously still bothering me or I wouldn’t keep having these dreams!”

Dean spun around to face you, his face contorted in familiar anger, “We’ve talked and talked about it, Y/N!  Can’t you give it a rest?  It happened, it’s over, I’m fine, let’s move on!”

You advanced on him, pointing an accusatory finger at his hardened face.  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how we haven’t been on a hunt since.  I mean it’s been four weeks and we haven’t left the bunker!  You can’t keep me from hunting, Dean!  I’m a hunter, it’s what I do!”

“Oh now it’s my fault we haven’t found a case?  News flash, Y/N…not everything is about you!”

Even you didn’t see it coming, but suddenly your hand flew up and slapped him hard across the face.  His jaw tensed, and he quieted, his face still tilted slightly from the blow and his eyes closed.  When he finally turned his attention back to you there was heat in his eyes. 

“Never do that again, Y/N.  Do you hear me?” he said, eerily calm.

You took a few quick breaths, but your face remained unapologetic.

Dean’s lip curled up in a sly smile and before you knew it they were on yours, pressing hard, his hands tangled up in your hair.  You found yourself off your feet, wrapping your legs around his waist as he turned you around and sat you down on the hard sink; the porcelain cold against your bare thighs causing you to gasp.  His hands slid under the tee-shirt you borrowed and his rough fingers dug tightly into your skin as he squeezed at your hips, shifting you down slightly on the surface.  His lips never left yours, and his kisses were wet and hungry.

When he finally stopped the siege on your lips and let his mouth wander down your chin to your neck, you managed to finally speak up.  “Dean,” you said with a breathless rasp, “this isn’t always the answer when we’re fighting.”

His hands left your hips, traveling up your torso to your breasts and you had to grip onto each side of the sink to keep yourself from falling.  His mouth was pressed up against your right ear and a shiver went down your spine as he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you tried to think, but all reason went out the door.  “No,” you breathed.

That was all he needed to hear.  Dean stepped back, pushing his boxers down around his ankles and pulling your panties off you in the blink of an eye.  You inhaled sharply as he entered you roughly and began at a brutal pace.  Your moaning slowed him down a bit, wanting to savor the moment, and he leaned his forehead against yours as his face contorted with every thrust.  Only grunts and moans escaped his lips now. 

You gave him a little squeeze and he bucked up into you hard, throwing you off balance and nearly knocking you off the sink, but his hands found their way underneath your ass and he lifted you up, holding you against his chest as he bounced you up and down his length.  Your arms wrapped around his neck for purchase, and you kissed him sloppily, pulling on his bottom lip with your teeth and causing him to moan.

“Fuck you are so hot when you’re angry!” he said before pressing you up against the back of the door to relieve the fatigue in his legs. 

It wasn’t much longer before you felt that familiar snap and waves and waves of pleasure shook through your body.  Dean rode out your orgasm, but the pulsing was too much for him and he emptied himself inside of you.  He squinted his eyes as he pushed up into you completely, and stood there stock still as his seed filled you.  It seemed like he was holding his breath too long, but eventually he released it and began to breathe heavily again.  Placing his head against the door over your shoulder, he murmured an apology.

Your hand found the back of his neck and rubbed soothingly, “What are you apologizing for?”

He pulled his face back to look at you in the eyes for a moment.  “I couldn’t help it.  You just felt so damn good, and it happened before I could do anything.”

“What?” you said too caught up in the moment to really think about it.

Dean grimaced, “I didn’t have a condom on.”

For a moment nothing but silence danced between you, but you finally found the words.  “It’s okay, Dean.  I’m on the pill.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” he responded, trying to pretend he wasn’t worried.  He pulled out of you and set you down gently on your feet, letting the tee-shirt cover you back up again.  When he walked away from you it left you cold, but his warmth came back quickly as he cleaned you up with a warm, wet wash cloth.  After cleaning himself up, he tossed the rag into the sink and cradled your face in his palm, resting his forehead against yours again.  “I love you, Y/N, and I’m sorry for what I did that night.  You’re right.  You’re a damn good hunter, and I shouldn’t have kept you there.  Please forgive me?”  His eyes were so earnest.

“Dean,” you responded, “I have forgiven you.  I’m just trying to deal with these nightmares.”

He kissed you softly.  “If you still need to go clear your head, go ahead.  I’ll wait.”

You smiled up at him, “It’s okay.  You did a pretty good job of clearing it just now.”

With a broad smile, Dean picked you back up and carried you back to bed.  Once you both settled under the blankets, he wrapped himself around you and left sweet little kisses across your face, neck, and shoulders.  “You know my clothes look sexy on you?” he said teasingly.

“They look sexier off me,” you shot back.

“Mmmm,” he groaned, “You’re right!  Let’s get this off you.”

You giggled as he pulled his shirt up over your head and tossed it aside.

“Much better,” he stated as he ran his hands soothingly over your bare back.  “I like it better when we’re both naked.”

“I bet you do,” you chuckled.

 

*****

 

Just as you started to wonder if the world had rid itself of monsters, your cell phone rang.  A hunter friend, you hadn’t heard from for what must have been about ten years, called to get your assistance on particularly nasty case in Arizona.  Over that past few weeks several newlyweds had their honeymoon at the Copper Queen Hotel cut short in the worst way possible.  The brides all murdered their grooms.  The hotel was famous for being haunted, but this was the first time anything like _this_ had occurred. 

Dean had walked in to the kitchen just as you were hanging up the phone.

“You got it, Bill,” you said, “I’ll be there in a few days…alright, bye.”

“Who’s Bill?” Dean asked, an eyebrow peaked.

You gave him an incredulous look.  Was he really jealous?  “He’s an old friend.  He needs help on a case.”

Dean immediately tensed up, but relaxed his shoulders to try and hide his concern. 

You caught it anyway.

“What kind of case?” he asked.

“Sounds like a vengeful spirit, maybe.  There were a few deaths in the past couple of weeks.  All newly married grooms offed by their blushing brides.  It’s worth looking into,” you offered.

You could see how the muscles in his neck and jaw flexed and writhed underneath his skin.  He was no doubt fighting his instincts not to let you go.  But he had conceded last night.  You were a hunter;  a damn good hunter.  He wouldn’t push his luck and tell you no again.  Instead he walked over to you and looked you dead in the eye, searching for…something.  Finally, he sighed in surrender.

“Give me minute, I’ll pack up the car,” he announced before turning on his heels and heading back towards the recesses of the bunker.

You smiled to yourself.  Maybe he would come around.  Maybe things were looking up.


	8. "Double Trouble"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Finally an update! I'm sorry it's been so long since the last one. I've been crazy busy at work and unfortunately haven't had any time or energy to write for pleasure in what seems like forever! I was also having a little trouble trying to figure out where I wanted this to go and how to go about it, but I've worked out the kinks now. School is almost over so I'm hoping to wrap this story up in early summer for you guys. Thank you for all the kudos and comments and especially your patience waiting for this installment. This chapter is a bit short, but there is more to come.

The drive to Bisbee, Arizona was long and you didn’t get there until two in the morning.  Luckily the Copper Queen had an overnight front desk staff.  Rarely do you get to stay in a hotel like this.  It was historic, and decorated more like a bed and breakfast than your standard motel.  Dean took one look at the floral-print-granny-wallpaper and burgundy carpeting and had to suppress the urge to puke.  You squeezed his hand to reassure him.

“It’ll be romantic,” you suggested.   The comment earned you a snide look and equally snide comment.

“Romantic, sure, tell that to the grooms whose blood must have stained this carpet,” he snorted.

You rolled your eyes, “C’mon, we’ve got a room all to ourselves with a king size bed and a fireplace.  Sam’s room is far enough away that we won’t be disturbed all night.  I know we’re working a case, but let’s try and have some fun too!”

Dean’s face softened for just a minute before looking around at the décor again and sneering.

Your phone pinged, alerting you to a text message from your friend Bill.  He was on his way over to meet you and brief you on what he had discovered so far.  The two of you dropped your bags on the end of the bed and Dean rang Sam to tell him to meet down in the hotel bar.  When the three of you arrived, you ordered a couple of beers while you waited, but Bill was there just a few minutes after you sat down.

“Y/N!  I’m so glad you’re here,” Bill said as he wrapped his arms around you in a great big hug, “What’s it been like, two or three years?”

“About that,” you answered as you pulled away to look at him.  He looked different than you remembered.  For one he lost a bit of weight, he had always been kinda pudgy, but it looked like he was working out regularly now.  His face was covered in a full on Grizzly Adams beard, and even though you knew it wasn’t possible, he seemed taller somehow.

Dean cleared his throat behind you.

“Oh, sorry, Bill this is Dean and Sam Winchester.  Guys, this is Bill Brannon.”

Sam shook Bill’s hand first in a friendly hello; Dean’s handshake was more guarded.  You nudged his foot with yours and gave him an “are you kidding me?” look.  He was obviously being protective, and definitely a little jealous.  He had nothing to worry about.  You and Bill had bumped into each other on the road a long time ago, right around the time you started hunting actually.  Every now and then you’d help each other out on a case, maybe have a beer afterward, but that was where your friendship ended.  There was never any impulse to hook up like with some other hunters you had worked with, present company included.  You were just friends who called on each other for help every once in a blue moon.

The four of you grabbed a table in the far corner, out of range of the other visitor’s ears, and Bill began to fill you in on the case.  So far, there had been four newlyweds that met tragic ends in the past month.  Bill had gotten there a couple of days ahead of calling you and swept the place.  There was definitely some spirit activity here.  Dean had confirmed Bill’s theory when they first arrived.  His EMF meter had lit up like a Christmas tree.  So now they had to figure out which of the hotels famed specters was the one causing all the trouble.  Bill hadn’t turned up anything useful so far.  The trouble with legends was that they were rarely ever accurate.  No, you’d have to do some digging to find the truth.

“Alright, so what do the legends say?” you asked.

Bill replied, “A couple of former employees, a little boy that drowned nearby, and an old prostitute.  No angry wives or suicidal brides.  I can’t seem to figure out which ghost the motive fits with.  It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well my bet’s on the prostitute,” Dean declared, “I think we should start there.”

“Problem is, this town ain’t too keen on modern technology,” Bill responded.

“What does that mean?” Dean asked quizzically.

Bill smirked, “It means we gotta do our research the old-fashioned way, and the house of historical records doesn’t open until tomorrow.”

“Great,” Sam grimaced, “so we have to hope there’s no newlyweds in the hotel tonight.”

Just as soon as he said it, an entire wedding party complete with bride and groom walked into the bar, whooping and hollering in celebration.

“You were saying, Sam?” you announced in defeat.

“Well, my friends,” Bill announced, “Looks like we’re pullin’ an all-nighter.”

Dean settled the tab and the four of you decided on shifts to both keep an eye on the honeymooners and alternately try and dig up as much research as possible on the lore without having to visit the historical records.  Bill was certain that it wouldn’t turn up anything useful, but Sam had some skills with hacking into government files, so he was going to give it a go.  Bill would work with him first while you and Dean patrolled the halls of the hotel, keeping an eye on the happy couple.  The Copper Queen wasn’t that large, but it did have several levels, so the two of you agreed to split up to cover more ground.  You spent a couple of hours apart checking every nook and cranny of the hotel, but so far things seemed pretty normal.  The EMF was still spiking, but nothing strange had happened.  Just as the old grandfather clock in the lobby struck 12:00, the chimes echoing up the grand stairwell, Dean caught back up with you outside Sam’s room.

“Anything?” he asked, looking bored.

“Nothing,” you responded, “Let’s get Sam and Bill to take the next shift.  I could use a break.”  You knocked lightly on Sam’s door and paused before letting yourself in.

Sam looked up from his laptop, “Hey, what’d you guys find?”

“Nada,” Dean said as he plopped down and stretched out on top of Sam’s bed, “other than a whole lot of grandma doilies.”

“Anything on your end, Sam?” you asked stepping behind him to see what was on his screen.  It was just some websites with local legends about the hotel.

Sam shook his head, “Nothing more than we already know.  I’m sure it has to do with the hauntings somehow, but I can’t seem to pinpoint what’s triggering it or why?”

“Well, it’s your turn to look around,” Dean said sitting back up on the edge of the bed, “I think I need some shuteye for a minute.”

Sam closed his laptop and grabbed his EMF and his gun, which he tucked away in the waistband of his jeans.  He said he’d check in when his shift was up; he was going to focus on keeping an eye out for the honeymooners.  If there was going to be trouble, it would most likely start there.

“Bill’s probably back in his room if you want to grab him for backup,” you stated.

Sam nodded and headed out the door into the hallway, waiting for you and Dean to leave before closing and locking his door. 

You and Dean watched Sam head down the hall and then turned to go in the opposite direction to your own room.  Dean’s hand fell on the small of your back as you both walked up to your door.  It was a warm gesture, one of his hidden traits that only came out around you.  You smiled up at him as he pulled out the key and unlocked the door, guiding you into the room gently before him.  As you stepped inside your eyes fell on the glowing hearth in the corner.  It was casting a romantic light around the room, your shadows danced along the wall as the flames flickered.

“Um…”you began, “I swear we didn’t light a fire before we left earlier.”

Dean’s arms encircled your waist and you felt his lips touch the soft skin just below your ear, “I called the concierge to light it for us.”

Your eyes closed as you tilted your head further giving him unencumbered access to your neck, his kisses tracing along the curve of your flesh.  “I see someone has finally given in to the romantic atmosphere,” you said with a smirk, teasing him.

“Trust me, it’s not the atmosphere, it’s just you,” he murmured as he continued to brush along your neckline. 

You felt his hands slither up under the front of your shirt, fingers tracing lightly along your abs and up over the delicate lace cups of your bra.  Sinking back into him, you sighed as he caressed you lovingly, until finally you couldn’t wait any longer.  Quickly, you twisted in his arms and landed a hard, wet kiss on his full lips, pushing him eagerly toward the bed.  You could feel him smile against you as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip and climbed your way above him on the bed. 

Dean, enjoying your fervor, grabbed hold of the hemline on your tee-shirt and deftly raised it up and off of you.  He buried his face in your breasts, nipping and kissing as you made quick work of ridding his shirt as well.  “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?’ he asked, his gorgeous green irises lost in the depths of your eyes.

“Not yet,” you replied with a faux pout.

In response, he pulled you up against his chest and spun the two of you around until you were lying underneath him.  Looking down at you with a smile, he said, “Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t wait to be inside you.”

A moan escaped your lips, and your hands instantly reached down between you to undo his belt.  You felt his hand help with the removal and he swiftly yanked it from his belt loops and tossed it aside on the floor.  Your fingers worked the button and zipper of his jeans while his hands roamed up your taut frame.  You startled a bit when his strong hands yanked at the fabric between your breasts, tearing the frilly lace off of you.  “Dean!” you exclaimed, half aroused and half pissed that he just destroyed your favorite bra.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said, as his tongue dipped down into the valley of your chest.

Soon your jeans and panties had joined his on the floor and Dean wasted no time on foreplay.  His cock was buried deep inside you in an instant, making you gasp as he plunged himself into you over and over again.

“You like it when I fuck you like this don’t you?” he half asked, half stated.

“Yes, Dean!” you cried out loudly as he continued his onslaught on your g-spot.

His face twisted into a wicked grin, and slammed into you harder, your pelvises cracking against one another’s almost painfully.

He had never been this rough with you before.  “Dean, slow down, it’s starting to hurt.”

“I thought you liked a little pain,” he taunted as he bit down hard on your nipple.

“DEAN!” you screamed, as pain shot through you like the surge from a live wire.

Suddenly, his hand cracked across your face, stinging and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Get off me!” you shouted as you pushed at him, but his grin just widened and he pressed his forearm against your throat, crushing into your windpipe.

You tried to scream, but you couldn’t get enough air to make anything but strangled little croaking sounds.  He had you pinned underneath him and he continued to force himself into you brutally.  The light was starting to dim when you felt him burst inside you, hot and oozing along your walls.  He let out a guttural sound and collapsed on top of you, restricting your airway even more with his full weight now on your chest.  You were about to black out, but you heard the sharp cracking of wood and suddenly Dean was up and off you. 

Air rushed instantly into your lungs, burning along your throat and filling your chest with needle-like ferocity.  You heaved over onto your side, clutching at your chest as if that would soothe the pain that was filling you with each gasping breath.  You could hear a struggle going on in the room, but were too preoccupied with the burning sensation inside you.

A gunshot, maybe two, went off and the next thing you knew Dean was grasping at you again. 

“Get away from me,” you barely eeked out pushing and kicking him away.

“Y/N, stop, it’s me,” he said, trying to wrangle you, but you landed a swift kick to his groin and sent him crumbling to the floor as you rolled off the opposite side of the bed.

You felt another set of strong hands latch onto you, pulling you to your feet as you continued to struggle.

“Y/N! Stop it’s me, Sam!”

Twisting violently, you continued to pull away, still struggling to understand what was going on around you, but Sam’s large arms enveloped you and held you tight against his chest as he sank with you down to the floor.  His hand cradled your head and he rocked you slowly, shushing into your ear and telling you it was over.

It took you a minute to compose yourself, but finally you looked up at Sam’s face and stopped struggling.  Tears sprang from your eyes as you sank into his arms.

A painful grunt sounded from across the room, and you turned to see Dean trying to compose himself from the assault on his manhood.  He stood up, a pained expression on his face and slowly limped toward you.  You crushed further into Sam and screamed, “Stay away from me!”

Dean stopped short, his expression turning from physical pain to emotional pain.

“Dean,” Sam said gently, “just go, I’ve got her.”

You heard Dean’s reluctant footsteps move away from you and out the door.

“Is she alright?” Bill’s heavy-breathed voice sounded in the distance.

Then the door clicked shut and you were left with only Sam.

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s get you covered up,” Sam said as he pulled the throw blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around you. 

You were so distraught that you hadn’t even thought about the fact that you were completely naked in Sam’s arms.

He picked you up gently and placed you on the side of the bed.  His hand turned your chin up to face him as he looked down at you and said, “You know that wasn’t Dean, right?”

“What?” you whimpered through the sobs that were now wracking your body.

“It wasn’t Dean who assaulted you,” he continued, “it was a shifter.”

Your eyes widened.  “A shifter?” you asked, confused.

“That’s what’s been causing all the problems around here.  It’s not a ghost, Y/N, it’s a shapeshifter!”


	9. You Give Love a Bad Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for your patience with my lack of updates. The story kind of got away from me a little bit, and it took on it's own life, so I had to reconfigure where it was going and how I wanted it to end. There will be one more update after this. The story is coming to a close, so I'd love any feedback you can give me on it. Thanks again for reading my work!

After getting dressed you had followed Sam down the hall to his room.  He didn’t want to leave you alone, and you were thankful.  That thing that was wearing Dean’s face was somewhere in the hotel, and you were both confused and ashamed about the whole incident.  How could you have not realized it wasn’t Dean?  Sure, he looked like him, smelled like him, even touched you in the same way Dean would have, but once he started to hurt you, you should have known.  Dean would never hurt you like that.  Still, when Dean and Bill came back from chasing the shifter down, you shrunk away instinctively from the man who had attacked you just a half hour ago.  The look on his face as you pulled back made you feel guilty.  He wasn’t the one who raped you.  You shouldn’t be taking it out on him, but the copy had felt so much like the original, and you weren’t sure if you could deal with him comforting you right now.

“Did you guys find it?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head and looked over at you again, “Son of a bitch got away.”  He started to walk towards you, but stopped when you flinched again.  With a heavy sigh, he sat down on the armchair directly across from you, giving up for now.

“How you holding up, honey?” Bill asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you lied.  The truth is you were not okay.  You weren’t sure if you would ever be.

Bill placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and rubbed up and down your arm comfortingly. 

You didn’t miss the jealousy tinting Dean’s already green eyes.

Not wanting to be the victim anymore, you took a deep breath and walked over to the dresser, unloading the clip that was currently in your gun, and reloading with silver bullets.  “Well, are we gonna hunt this bastard down or what?” you announced more than asked.

“We swept the whole building already, Y/N, he’s probably long gone by now,” Dean said turning his eyes down to the floor when you looked at him.

“What I don’t get,” Sam followed up, “was why he went after you, Y/N?  It doesn’t fit pattern at all! You and Dean aren’t honeymooners and normally it’s the groom that gets attacked, not the bride.”

“Does it really matter, Sam?” Dean asked incredulously, “It’s not a ghost like we thought either, so nothing is what we thought it was.  All I know is I’m gonna kick that son of a bitch’s ass and then pump him full of silver!”

Dean stood up abruptly and made for the door, but you cut him off before his hand could reach the doorknob.  He looked down at you and his face softened.  The two of you stood there staring at each other for what seemed like hours before you finally spoke up.

“Guys, could you give us a minute please?”

“Sure thing,” Bill said, reading the tenor of your voice, “Sam, why don’t we go keep an eye on the bride and groom downstairs, just in case.”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, good idea.”  He tucked his gun into the waist of his jeans and followed Bill out the door leaving you and Dean alone.

The silence that filled the room was so thick it could choke the life out of you, but neither of you spoke up for a good long moment.  You both tried to break the deafening silence at the same time.

“Dean…”

“Y/N…”

“You first,” you both said in unison.

He reached his hand up to cradle your cheek but stopped mid-air as you stifled another flinch.

“I’m sorry,” you said, fighting against the instinct to pull away.

There was a sadness clouding over Dean’s irises, but he resumed the movement towards you and his warm hand connected with your flushed skin.  “Y/N, you don’t have to apologize.”

You felt like you should, you knew he wasn’t the thing that attacked you, but yet you still were visibly uncomfortable with him; the man you claimed to love.  Everything felt so wrong.

Dean slowly leaned in and placed his soft lips to your forehead, holding you close to him as if you were a porcelain doll that could break with the slightest pressure.  “Y/N, you know I would never hurt you like that, right?”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him, his eyes darting around trying to read the expression on your face.  “I know, Dean, it’s just that it _was_ you for a moment.  I mean he did a damn good job imitating you.  I thought…” you let yourself trail off.

“You thought what?” he asked softly.

“It was romantic in the beginning.  I was happy.  It finally felt like we were having a moment, the moment I’ve been waiting for through all of this.”

“What are you talking about?”

You sighed, “I can’t explain it.  It’s like we’ve been playing at a relationship up until now, and tonight, I don’t know it finally felt real…and then it wasn’t.  It was this monster version of you and it felt all wrong all of a sudden.”

Dean’s face hardened and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with a swallow.  He stepped back from you and averted his eyes again.

“Dean,” you started, reaching for him, but he stepped back further.

“Don’t worry about it,” he covered, clearly upset by the revelation you just dropped, “You know what?  Let’s just deal with the shifter, and we’ll talk about it later.”  He pasted a phony smile on his face and moved around you to open the door.  “C’mon, let’s go backup Sam and Bill.”

You reluctantly followed him out the door and the two of you headed downstairs to meet up with the others, the blanket of silence smothering you once again.  Sam and Bill were leaning over the railing looking down the grand staircase and into the ballroom of the hotel.  The wedding party was tearing it up down there, drinks were on continuous pour and the music was inspiring all the revelers to shake off their inhibitions.  It didn’t look good.  By now the shifter definitely had shucked off Dean’s skin and it could be anyone.  It could be the bride or one of her bridesmaids, maybe the bartender, maybe the caterer, they just wouldn’t know.

“There has to be security cameras in here, maybe we can have a look-see?” you suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Dean said, “I’ll go find the security office, Sam , you and Y/N keep an eye on the party.  Bill, you coming?”

He didn’t want to be with you right now.  Hell, you couldn’t blame him, and you should have known it was coming.  Dean Winchester never wants to deal with his feelings.  He just shoved them down deep inside and drowned them with whiskey; a formula that always seemed to work for him.  Maybe a little time apart was in both your best interests at the moment.  You couldn’t worry about your love life right now; you had a shifter to kill and you couldn’t afford any distractions.  You and Dean would have to work out your problems later.

Sam suggested that the two of you meander down to the bar so you could keep a better eye on the reception in the ballroom, so the two of you headed down the stairs and found a bar stool where you could spy without being too obvious.  The bar was also a great choice of locations because you needed a drink.  Taking a cue from Dean’s playbook, you ordered two shots of whiskey and then asked Sam if he wanted anything. 

He gave you a sympathetic look, and declined the offer.

When the bartender slid the two shots your way, you nodded a thanks and you tossed back the two jiggers, letting the sweet, mossy burn coat your throat.  You sucked in a breath between clenched teeth and turned to observe the celebration in the other room.

“He loves you, you know?” Sam said quietly to the back of your head.

You turned your head to the side, not quite able to glimpse him in your peripheral vision.  “I know,” you said, “I love him too.”

“So don’t let this ruin it. Make sure Dean doesn’t use this as an excuse to bail either,” he continued.

You huffed, unsure of how to proceed.  “Let’s just focus on finding the shifter, okay?  I’ll be better once we kill the thing.”  Warm fingers squeezed your shoulder from behind in support, and it made you smile slightly.  You were glad to have Sam’s encouragement.

Another round of shots and a few hours later, and Dean finally came down to meet the two of you.  The security cameras were useless.  He and Bill had spent the past hour and a half staring at screens with not the slightest indication that the shifter was still in the building.  Not a single flare in a single eye. 

“Where’s Bill?” you asked, a little tipsy and a little suspicious.

“He went back to his room to grab something,” Dean responded.

“What?” you grilled.

“I don’t know?” he shrugged, “I didn’t ask.”

You pulled out your knife; and not in the least bit stealthily.  “Give me your arm.”

“What the Hell’s wrong with you, Y/N?” Dean sputtered, trying to hide the conspicuous blade from onlookers.

“I just want to be sure.  Let me see your arm!”

Dean scoffed, “I’m not the shifter.”

“Then you won’t mind if I test that will you?” you sassed.

He rolled his eyes while simultaneously rolling up his sleeve and holding his forearm out towards you. 

You looked over your shoulder to make sure the bartender wasn’t watching before pressing the edge of the blade into his skin, drawing blood.  There was no sizzle.

“Satisfied?” Dean asked, wiping away the blood with a bar napkin and pulling his blue and red plaid sleeve back down to cover the laceration.

You nodded your head, “Sorry, I just...never mind.”

“Look guys, we need to find out where this thing went, and why it broke pattern.  We’ve been keeping an eye out for the bride and groom, but who knows who it’s going to attack next.  It could be anyone!” Sam exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, I think we should keep tabs on each other tonight.  No one should go anywhere alone.” Dean suggested.

“Agreed,” both you and Sam said.

“Let’s go find Bill,” you advised, “We know Dean’s clean, but we should make sure we all pass the test, just in case.  Then we can all be sure that thing isn’t impersonating any of us.”

The three of you headed back upstairs to Bill’s room and you knocked lightly three times.  The door creaked open and Bill let you all in.  Bill’s room was just as granny chic as the rest of the rooms, and it even had an off-putting smell to it that you couldn’t place.  Of course that wasn’t out of the ordinary for the motels that you usually stayed in, but this was less rose perfume and baby powder and more…pungent maybe?  Whatever it was, it didn’t seem like it was bothering the guys, so you didn’t say anything.

Dean laid out the plan to verify that everyone was on the up and up and suggested that you all take turns once again alternating between patrolling the halls and trying to dig up some more research now that you knew it wasn’t a ghost causing the unfortunate deaths. 

You and Sam verified that you both saw Dean pass the test, and the rest of you pulled out your knives to do the same.  Sam sliced first, wincing a bit at the sting.  No sizzle.  You dragged your blade across your own arm, proving you were also in the clear.  It was Bill’s turn.  He smiled and pulled out his own blade, splitting his skin open under the elbow.  Still nothing.  All clear.  An un-vocalized sigh of relief washed over the room. 

“Alright, Y/N, you stay here with Bill.  See what else you can dig up now that we know what we’re dealing with,” Dean ordered, “Sam you’re with me.  We’re gonna find this thing and end it, tonight!”

It didn’t take him long to bound out the doorway, and Sam followed after giving you a look as if to say there is no arguing with Dean when he’s like this.  As soon as the door was closed, you turned and looked at Bill.

“Your friend is kinda intense huh?” he asked.

You smiled, “He’s something alright.  But he’s the best damn hunter I know.”

“Seems to be sweet on you too, honey.”

You blushed a bit. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sweet on him as well, but things are a bit complicated at the moment.”

Bill looked at you, your eyes turned down in sorrow, “You know what sugar?  Being a hunter means that you live your life lonely until you die.  I say, if you managed to find someone who looks at you the way he does, you’re doing okay in the meantime.”

That made you smile a bit, “Thanks Bill.  When did you become such an optimist?”

“Like an hour ago or so,” he joked.

A laugh found its way through your serious demeanor.  “Alright funny man, let’s get on the case.  Crack that laptop open will ya?  I’m gonna use the bathroom first.”

“On it,” Bill replied and turned away.

He was right, you had something good with Dean, and you couldn’t let anything get in the way of that.  You were hunters.  There would always be something that tested your relationship.  You just had to deal with the bad as it came, but not at the expense of the good.  If you were going to find love anywhere, it was going to be with another hunter.  Dean Winchester was one of the best.  Everything would work out alright.

When you opened the bathroom door, that pungent smell from earlier hit you like a tidal wave.  You stumbled back from the force of it, and then your eyes fell on the source.  In the bathtub there was a huge, sloppy pile of goop and fabric; the slimy, oozy skin shed from a shapeshifter.  You gagged at the sight and your eyes lit up with realization just a bit too late.  You felt a sharp blow to the back of your head, and then it was lights out.

 

*****

 

You groaned as you slowly came to.  Blinking.  Head rolling. Vision fuzzy.  It felt like you had one too many whiskeys at a frat party.  The room was dim, or maybe that was just your peripheral vision still reeling from being pistol whipped.  A voice seemed to be calling your name distantly, and as if it were underwater.  Your hearing was dulled like your sight.  A sharp slap to the face brightened everything up for you.  Nothing like stinging pain to sharpen your senses.

“There you are,” you heard yourself say.  Only, you weren’t talking.

You jolted upright, but you didn’t get very far as your wrists and ankles caught on the ropes that were currently keeping you nice and cozy in the desk chair.  Feather light fingertips traced along the back of your neck, as your assailant stayed out of view.

“Where’s Bill?” you demanded.

Your voice replied again, “Oh he’s long dead; rotting under my ever growing pile of skin in the next room.”

The voice and the body that accompanied it circled around in front of you, twirling as if showing off a new dress.

“I like this outfit better.  What do you think?”

Your mirror image gave another cutesy turn like a goddamn ballerina in Swan Lake.  You wanted to heave at the sight.

“I think I wear it better.” You spat back bitterly.

“Hmmmm…I wonder what Dean will think of my new look?  Do you think he’ll want to elope?”

You smirked, sourly, “I think he’s going to kill you.”

The shapeshifter you smiled.  “I guess we’ll see won’t we.”  Her hand reached out towards you as you recoiled, but you weren’t in the position for movement at the moment.  The shapeshifter pulled your cell phone out of your jacket pocket and helped herself to your contacts list.  “Let’s give old Deano a buzz, shall we?  Send out a distress call maybe?  Or, would you prefer a booty call? I think I can guess which one he’d prefer.”  The shifter hit dial on Dean’s contact and turned her back to you.

Struggling against your restraints, you kept a close eye on the monster, trying to free yourself.   This was gonna be personal now.  You really wanted to kick its ass!  You heard the shifter play the damsel-in-distress as you continued to pull at the rope bindings.

“Dean come quick!  The shifter, it found me!”  CRUNCH!  The cell was crushed in the shapeshifter’s fist.  “I want to play a game.  Let see how much Dean really loves you.”  Your face was only an inch or so from your own.  “Think he’ll be able to tell us apart?”

“I’m gonna kill you!” you screamed, and a hand quickly fell on your face again. 

To your surprise, the shifter began to untie you.  “Take your best shot sweetie.  We have to have something to do while we wait, although I’m sure we won’t be waiting for your beau very long.  In fact I’m pretty sure I hear his frantic footsteps now. “

As soon as you were free you lunged for the thing, knocking it backwards into the bureau, the glass mirror shattering into razor-like fragments, nicking the skin of your arm and face and cutting into the shapeshifter.  It only took it a second to recover, and suddenly you found yourself being wrenched into a tight headlock, the shifter’s arm pressing against your throat, restricting your air.  Your hands reached up, grabbed the arm, and you heaved, tossing the monster over your shoulder and onto its back in front of you.  One, two, three seconds to realize that both your gun and your blade were missing from your waistline and your boot.  The shifter moved, and you swiftly lined-up a sharp kick to its jaw.  The crack was audible, and blood spluttered out of its mouth.  Another kick, this time to the gut, had the shifter crawling away, but it was laughing! 

“That’s it sweetheart!  Work out your anger!” it shouted at you through its cackling.

You charged at it once again, but its boot (well really, your boot) caught you in the gut, knocking the wind from your lungs and sending you crashing back into the dresser. 

The door flew open as you regained your footing and Dean and Sam entered guns drawn aimed first at the shifter, and then at you, confusion laced over their eyes.  For a moment it was silent, the only sound were your own hearts beating in your ears, the tension thick and palpable.

“Dean!  Shoot it!” you shouted, pointing at the shifter.

The shifter writhed on the floor as if it were in pain, but you knew better.  It was an Oscar-worthy performance, but surely Dean would see right through it.

“D-Dean,” it stuttered, “please, kill it.”

Dean’s eyes darted back and forth between you and the shifter, not wanting to make the wrong choice, but knowing that someone had to do something quick before it all went to Hell.

“It’s lying, Dean!  That’s not me!  Shoot it!” you pleaded.

The shifter pulled out your silver knife from its back pocket, holding it by the ivory handle.  “Here!  See, it’s really me!”

Dean’s frown hardened, looked between the two of you again, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!


	10. "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, it is coming to an end. This is the last full chapter and then there is an epilogue. I was hoping to have this updated sooner, but I had a hard time writing this chapter. It's always hard to say goodbye to your characters when you finish a story, but this one was difficult. This was originally meant to be a one shot and it just took on a life of its own. I let the characters guide my writing, so I feel kind of attached to them. I wanted to say thank you for all the wonderful comments you guys have left for me and I hope that you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.

THUD…

 

You blinked your eyes slowly…

 

“N/A!”…Dean calling…BANG, BANG, BANG…

 

…

 

WEEoooWEEoooWEEoooWEEooo!…

 

…

 

“Stay with…”

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

PSHHHHHH Whir…PSHHHHHH Whir…

Warmth.  A hand on yours.  A groan echoing in your head.

 

“Y/N?” his voice, unsure, reaching your ears.

 

A weak response was pulled from your lips, “Dean?”  Eyes slowly blink open again.  The room is spinning a bit, fuzzy, but you can see his shape lean in towards you, blocking out some of the harsh light.  You feel his lips on your forehead.  Ahhhhh…finally a familiar sensation.  The edges of your awareness are becoming sharper, but your focus is still swimmy; your eyes feel heavy.  Your hearing becomes clearer.  There is a whooshing and beeping nearby, lots of distant chatter, a phone ringing in the distance, and another familiar voice.

 

“Is she awake?” you hear Sam ask with concern.

 

“I don’t know, I think so.  Y/N, can you hear me?”

 

“Dean…” you whisper back.

 

“I’ll get the doctor,” Sam said, his heavy footfalls fading away quickly.

 

*****

 

It had been a week since you left the hospital.  You were sitting on your bed in the Men of Letters bunker, picking at a hangnail and reveling in the pain.  Anything to keep your mind off of all the other pain you were dealing with right now.  Your lung was still on the mend.  The bullet from Dean’s gun had punctured right through it.  Lucky for you, you had flinched just enough to avoid a direct hit to your heart.  That’s where the silver bullet was intended to go, and Dean’s a great shot, so you fully realize it was an act of God that saved you.  Destiny was in play here, you were certain, but you couldn’t figure out the plan for the life of you! 

Suddenly you felt a sharp pull in your chest.  Whoops!  You forgot to breathe again.  Count in 1, 2, 3…release 1, 2, 3.  It was still difficult to pull in breath.  The doctor said it would be a good six to eight weeks before you would be back to normal, but of course he didn’t know what normal looked like for a hunter.  Sam was betting it would take longer than that.  What did Dean think?  Nothing.  At least that’s what you figured since he hadn’t really spoken to you since you left the hospital.  He was too busy with his self-loathing to deal with the situation.  It was just as well, you didn’t really know what to say to him either and at the moment you didn’t have the lung capacity to deal with the emotional trauma that would inevitably come along with the conversation. 

There was a knock at the door.

“Hey there,” Sam greeted you, a bowl of soup in his hands, “How you feeling?”

You wheezed when you spoke, “It’s still a struggle, but I’m managing.”

The look in your eyes told Sam that it wasn’t just the physical stuff you were struggling with.  “Here, you should eat something.  It’s from a can but, trust me, that’s probably a good thing,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you wheezed again, “what’s Dean up to?”  You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, but it was as if you couldn’t help yourself.

Sam sat down next to you on the bed with a sigh.  “He’s in the garage scrubbing the Impala for the fifteenth time this week.”  The way you shifted your eyes to the floor momentarily did not escape his notice.  “He doesn’t really know how to deal with his feelings, ya know?  He’s always just swallowed them and tried to forget, but I think this time is different.  His guilt is consuming him.”

You nodded your head.  You knew how he was under normal circumstances; this must have been killing him.  You didn’t blame him, not really.  The shifter was tricky, anyone would have been fooled, right?

“I’m just glad you survived, otherwise he’d be even further off the deep end.” Sam announced absentmindedly.

“Yeah, I guess me being alive is much more convenient,” you joked, and then sputtered.

Sam’s eyes went wide and his face flushed red, “Oh, no I didn’t mean…I just meant with Dean…I…”

“I’m kidding, Sam.  I know what you meant.”

“Okay, good, cause neither one of us could stand to lose you, ya know?” he recovered.

You nodded, a signal of officially dropping the subject.  “Thanks for the soup.  I was getting hungry, and I haven’t really been up to walking around and doing things for myself much.”

“Of course,” Sam smiled, “if you need anything just let us know.”

There was that word… _us_.  The truth of the matter was that it was only Sam who had been checking up on you; helping you heal.  Your boyfriend, although you weren’t quite sure if that was still his title, was taking better care of his other Baby at the moment.  You couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about it, even though you knew that Dean was doing a much better job at making himself miserable than you could.  It didn’t erase the fact that you would really benefit from just a glimpse of his face right now; even better if he would just wrap you in his warmth and let you lie there in his arms.  It was the comfort of Dean that you missed the most right now.  It was the way he made you feel that was leaving you empty.

Sam stayed and made small talk as you ate your soup.  You both avoided the elephant in the room, and when you were finished he took your empty bowl and left you to get some rest.  While you did get a few hours of sleep, it wasn’t very restful.  You dreamt about the shifter, about Dean, about the bullet tearing through your chest, and when you awoke it was to the sound of gun shots echoing off the tile walls of the bunker.  You sat up too quickly, spiking the ache that was constant in your ribcage.  What the hell was going on?

Frustrated at the feeling of urgency, and the uncooperative way your body was responding, you shuffled out of bed as quickly as you could.  A snail could have hustled better!  You threw on a bathrobe and grabbed the gun out of your underwear drawer, checking and engaging the clip, and made your way…slowly, tediously …toward the sound.  If Sam and Dean were in trouble, they were shit-out-of-luck if they thought you could save the day!  The sound of shots grew louder…BANG, BANG, BANG…rapid succession.  When you finally turned the corner you relaxed as you realized that it wasn’t an emergency at all.  Someone was getting in a little target practice, and they just forgot to close the door.  The bunker was all hard surfaces, so sound traveled.  Your breath caught for a moment when you reached the door and peered in.  It made you rasp and cough, shooting pain through your nerves.  It also made the shooter stop and take notice.

Dean stood there staring at you for a moment, but when he saw you clutching your chest, he was next to you in a flash, holding you upright and soothing you.  “What are you doing wandering around?  Is something wrong?”

You coughed and flinched again at the discomfort.  “Yeah, some idiot is popping off rounds in the middle of the night and waking people up,” you quipped.

Dean pulled back a little, giving you space to breathe, or at least to try.  “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so loud.”  He turned and walked back over to where he laid his gun and put it up, but he didn’t return.  He just stood there, hunched over, hands flat on counter that separated him from the firing range, no doubt churning guilt around in his head.

“Are you ever going to speak to me again?” you asked with concern, and a little acid chaser.

He closed his eyes and huffed, but didn’t turn to you, “Do you want me to?”

“What kind of question is that?” you queried, the umbrage seeping through your words.

Dean turned to face you, his countenance full of compunction.  “I shot you,” he declared, matter-of-factly, “I almost killed you.”

“No shit, Sherlock!  I was there! But does that mean you’re never going to talk to me again?”

“Y/N…” Dean turned away from you in exasperation.

 “What, Dean?  Say something?” you wheezed.

He didn’t turn around.  “This isn’t going to work.”

You huffed, and then coughed, and then found your voice again, “So, things get tough and you just give up?  Or did the last few months just mean nothing to you?”

That spun him around quick, “What are you kidding me?  You think it meant nothing?”

“Well, I don’t know, Dean, you tell me!  I can’t read your mind!”

He took two quick steps and was upon you. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life…”

“Well good, because…”

“…but that doesn’t mean I should just forget about the danger I put you in just being with you!”  His face froze in consternation.  “I’m no good for you, Y/N!   I’m not gonna let you become another casualty of my messed up life.”

You stood there, stunned, open-mouthed, trying to find the words, but they kept eluding you.  Boy he was a master of self-flagellation!  He could probably find a way to blame himself if you stubbed your toe!  The truth was you were hunters, and sometimes bad things happen.  You knew he would never purposefully shoot you, and the fact that he was brooding about it with such ferocity was absolutely ridiculous!  “Dean, when are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that you can’t always keep me safe?  I mean, yeah, terrible things happen around you all the time!  You’re a hunter for Christ’s sake!  Terrible things happen to all hunters!  It’s just the life!”  You lost your breath again and clutched your chest, counting in and out to regain your composure.

“Yeah, but _I_ did that to you.  Not some monster or some creature, me!” he responded, “Everybody that Sam and I have ever gotten close to is gone.  That’s our curse, we have to live with the loss, but I’m not going to let that happen to you.  I’d sooner choose to never see you again than to let that happen to you.”

You wanted to protest, you wanted to fight, but at the moment you didn’t have the energy.  To be honest, in that moment things started to become very clear.  He was never going to forgive himself, and he was never going to get over this.  It didn’t matter how much you loved each other or how hard you tried, this would always be an issue between the two of you.  Your heart felt like a stone, heavy and cold, and before you even realized it you found yourself agreeing with him.

Cheerlessly, you finally found the words, “You’re right.  This can never work.”

For a moment Dean looked stunned, like he never expected you to agree with him, never expected you to give up.  But his shock quickly turned to resolve, and he nodded, tight-lipped and turned away from you.

So this was it. The words had been spoken aloud and you were both in agreement.  No matter how much it would tear you both up inside, there would be no more romance between you.  You weren’t even sure if there was room for friendship anymore.  You felt the tears springing to your eyes and turned away from him, pausing briefly in the doorway, one final moment for second thoughts and then you stepped out into the hallway.

“Y/N!” Dean called after you.

You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, not wanting him to see the tear that had slid down your cheek.

“I’ll always love you,” he admitted, remorsefully.

“Me too,” you declared before you walked back to the room you would no longer be able to call your own.  It was time to move on.  The honeymoon was over.


	11. "Epilogue"

“Sammy, get a move on will ya,” Dean called over his shoulder as he slammed the trunk shut.  He adjusted his tie to make sure it was lying flat against his button down, and walked around the car meet his brother.

“Here,” Sam said, handing Dean the newest fake F.B.I. badge.  His said Agent Carson, Sam’s said Agent McMahon.

The two of them walked casually towards the yellow crime scene tape, exuding that penal code air about them.  The cops on the scene didn’t even blink when they walked under the flimsy, plastic barricade.  As they approached the ambulance, where the witness was being patched up, Dean’s eye fell on you and he stopped dead in his tracks.

It had been years since they had last seen you, but the heartache was still as fresh as the day you walked out of his life.  It looked like you were pretexting as a reporter.  You were wearing a black dress that fell just above the knee and a tailored beige trench coat with sexy, black patent-leather pumps that were bringing back all kinds of salacious memories.  The two of you had had some really great times together.  He missed you.

Sam didn’t notice you right away, and tapped Dean on the chest to regain his focus on the case at hand.  When he didn’t respond, he followed his brother’s line of sight and immediately understood why Dean was so zoned out.  “Hey, we can leave if you want,” Sam offered.

Regaining his composure, Dean turned to his brother and replied, “No.  Let’s just work the case.  You go have a look at the body.  I’ll talk to the witness.”

Sam agreed and reluctantly left his brother on his own.

As he was interrogating the young girl who watched her own father get eaten alive by some terrible creature, he couldn’t help but glance over towards where you were standing.  The only trouble was that you were staring back at him.  Your eyes met, a lingering sadness still mirrored in them, and you gave him a small smile.  Not knowing what else to do, he gave you a wink and turned back to the witness, writing down the detailed description of the monster she was describing on a small notepad.

When he was finished with the girl, he found Sam and they exchanged information.  As Sam was talking he scanned the crowd again, searching for you, but you were gone. 

That was the last time he ever saw you, but he was glad to know that you were still out there fighting the good fight the way you were supposed to, without him holding you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again for reading this story. I know it ended on a sad note, but that was what I always intended. I'm currently working on another long chapter fic, but I am trying to finish it so I can upload it in its entirety and not make you have to wait for every chapter. Sometimes I hate that wait, and I know I made you all wait for a long time since I started this one.
> 
> Please leave me some comments if you have a minute! Did you love it? Hate it? Feedback is always great!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me swoon! Let me know what you think!


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